


The Hunting Dead

by Forever_Destiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Dean has problems, Destiel - Freeform, Drinking, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Everyone's Hurt, F/M, Hate to Love, Human Castiel, Human Gabriel, Human Lucifer, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, I think Cas self harms???, I'm not sure I'll give you a warning, IDK what Cas is, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Jimmy is dead, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Minor Character Death, No Smut, Openly Bisexual Dean, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overprotective Castiel, Overprotective Dean, Sabriel - Freeform, Smoking, Walkers (Walking Dead), cas has problems, lots of gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-08-18 21:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 20,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8176969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_Destiel/pseuds/Forever_Destiel
Summary: Saving people.Hunting walkers.The survivors' business. When the zombie apocalypse begins Dean Winchester leads a group of survivors called The Hunters to live day by day, killing zombies and fighting as hard as they can. That's when they come upon the Angels, a group led by Castiel Novak along with his family - and they don't get off to a great start. However, as time goes by and the two teams merge to find a way to live safely, new relationships may blossom between all of them... for better or for worse.





	1. Chapter 1

“Crap, out of ammo!” Someone’s shouts rose above the barrage of bullets shooting through the air, hitting their undead targets with precision from only the best of soldiers. They always struck their enemies without fail in their brains, the once-humans falling to the ground, dead. Permanently. Zombie after zombie fell to the paved street, with the gun-wielding survivors reloading and ready to take down more, determined looks in their eyes burning like a flame.

“Sammy!” A gun spun through the air, the tall man catching it with ease and unloading a clip into the zombies’ heads. The leader of the group stepped toward the remaining zombie that was rasping and snapping its teeth with a dull clack. He unsheathed the machete from the holster on his thigh and cut its head off. The body, now separated from the head, fell to the ground. The round head rolled across the blacktop, jaw still moving. He held the machete like a sword and shoved it through its skull with a crack, then pulling it out with a sound akin to the squeezing of a jelly container. “Eat that, you damned Croat,” he spat, sheathing his weapon once more. He huffed out a breath, wiping sweat and blood splatter from his brow. “Anyone bit?”

The entire group, the unrelated family, checked their skin and each other. “All clear!” Dean Winchester, leader of the Hunters, nodded.

“Good.” The survivors all gathered around bodies scattered on the ground as the wisest, Bobby, pulled out a map.

“Okay, so we’re here.” He pointed to the end of a street titled  _ Collins Way _ . “There are two rows of houses. We can split up into two groups and go down either street.”

“Out of the question,” Dean stated, “Hunters stay together. Anything else and we’re killed.” He’d had enough with loss and he knew it was a suicide plan, expression hard. He’d already seen his mother, father, grandfather, cousins, younger half-brother and many others die. They’d all died because of one mistake; not being with the group.

The group was an assembly of the strongest warriors they could find. If they weren’t good at shooting, they were trained or handed a blade. Ellen, the mother of the pack, jabbed a thumb back toward the group of cars they had. “We need more supplies.”

“If we don’t split up we won’t have enough by nightfall, the Croats’ll be crawling,” his younger brother, Sam, added. Dean shot him a glare.

“Out of the damn question!” he repeated, shoving his handgun into his pocket. “We either stick together or starve together. Understood?” Everyone exchanged a glance before nodding. “Alright.” Dean glanced to the houses. “Don’t go in the house if it looks like it’s looted. Don’t waste time. Gather whatever you can salvage. Move out.” They all began in their sprint toward the first house, a large one with light blue walls. Heading inside, they held their guns at the ready for any of what they called Croats. They were bad news and getting bit meant a death sentence. They’d seen it happen before. Hell, that’s what Mary went through. It was the worst day of Dean and Sam’s life. Seeing her ripped apart as she told them to go as fast as they could… The second they got a gun the pair killed the yellow eyed zombie responsible. 

“Crap,” Jo cursed under her breath, opening the pantry door. “Only a few cans of beans.”

“It’s more than nothing,” Pamela pointed out, one of the muscles of the group. She also seemed to have a knack for predicting where the Croats were.

“It isn’t that much, though,” Charlie muttered under her breath, “what would Hermione do?”

“Hermione can’t do shit, Charlie,” Dean told her, heading up the stairs to the second floor. He held up his favorite handgun, a .45 caliber Colt MK IV Series 80 1911 pistol with ivory grips, and kept it ready to fire, turning off the safety with a click. He came upon a door that seemed promising and opened it, a small, little-girl zombie with her stomach almost caved in - the girl must’ve died from starvation - turning to him, once-yellow sundress ripped to shreds. It rasped and came at him but he killed it with ease.

He looked around and saw only a dollhouse, an old bed and a toy tea set. “Dammit.” He ran a hand through his hair and went back downstairs where others were checking through cabinets.

“Dog food?” Jody offered, pulling out a case. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Save it. Drastic situations call for eating crap.” Jo already stuffed what little food there was into her bag. “Search for medical supplies. I could really use an aspirin right now. Or some whiskey.”

After a few minutes Ellen came back into the living room, arms laden with instant food. “Had a whole stash in the basement.”

“That’s great,” Sam approved, “and there’s a fireplace with some wood.” Dean thought for a second.

“We’ll stay here tonight,” he ordered, “take care of the other houses in the morning.” He looked out the window and saw it was getting dark. That was when the Croats were out the most. “Sammy, get a fire started. The rest of us’ll block the doors and windows. Somebody find a damn hammer.”

After successfully boarding up all entrances into the home, they all sat in a circle in the living room with a crackling fire being the only noise. Dean stood by the window and peeked through the small area of moonlight filtering in, seeing Croats roaming around outside. “Shit,” he breathed, “they’ll get my damn car.” He glanced back to see everyone else eating their dinner with smiles on their faces. It’d been awhile since any one of them had a full meal. Dean, of course, didn’t really eat; he only took a swig of beer every few minutes from the case they’d found.

He didn’t really eat these days. Or sleep. The apocalypse took a toll on him, letting him harden into the man he now was. “We need a permanent camp,” he heard Bobby say, “somewhere to stay with supplies. We can’t be nomads forever.” Dean chuckled sarcastically.

“And risk raiders? Yeah, right.”

“We’re gonna run out of gas some time,” Jo pointed out, “the motorcycle is almost out.”

“Then we’ll find some other cars and steal the gas in them.” Sam shrugged.

“We could always-”

“I said no!” Dean took a deep breath, angered by what he considered as their weakness, their stupidity. He loved his family but, damn, did they not consider logic? They could die if they stayed in one place for too long, they’d be like cattle waiting for the slaughter. There was silence throughout the rest of dinner, everyone making sure to have one can and one can only. It conserved their resources. “I’ll keep watch tonight,” Dean declared, marching up the steps, “rest of you get some shut-eye.”

“I’ll come up too,” Charlie said, but Dean gave her a stare that told her otherwise. She sighed and grabbed a blanket she had found, the group gathering by the fire and laying on the floor to sleep as Dean went up to the little girl’s room, stepping carelessly over her corpse and setting up his machine gun. He didn’t sleep that night. He barely even blinked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not giving a summary, LOL, if I do it'll give away the chapter!!!!!

After killing a few more Croats and coming across medical, food, and clothing supplies, they all packed into their cars and Jo on her motorcycle, getting ready to go.

“Shouldn’t we just stay? I mean, we boarded up the doors,” Pamela reminded Dean as he opened the door to his Impala. Dean rolled his eyes.

“I don’t give a damn, we’re going.” Dean knew his orders were absolute. Ever since he became the leader - after John died - no one had died if they had listened to his rules. They all drove in a line, Dean in front with Bobby in his truck being the back, Sam checking through their supply list.

“We have enough ammo to last a while and food is doing okay. We could get some more bandages, though, and the girls…”

“We’ll take care of it,” Dean said flatly, staring at the road and taking a right. “There’s a market around here somewhere. Maybe we’ll find a damn twinkie.” Sam chuckled but Dean rose his eyebrows, lips pursed. Sam instantly became uncomfortable and the brothers were silent. That happened a lot, these days. Dean would say something witty like he used to, Sam would smile or laugh or make some indication of amusement, and Dean would give him that look. The look that said,  _ This isn’t a laughing matter _ .

Everybody was serious because Dean was serious. Dean was serious because his father had been. Before John had died, before they had to put a bullet in his head and before the bite wound on his throat lost more blood, he’d told him to protect Sam and kill him if he went darkside. Dean knew both statements were true for everyone in their group. If you cared about them and they got bitten, you’d give them a swift and painless end. Nothing more, nothing less.

“How’re we doing on gas?” Dean questioned, knowing without a doubt that gas was important.

“We might run out if we don’t get more soon. Either stop as soon as we can or go as far and be stranded.” Dean nodded.

“Got it. Find the next highway.” Sam pulled out a map and searched it, tracking their location along with the nearest highway. All of them had been packed when the apocalypse hit, and they could probably salvage some gasoline if they were lucky.

“Take a left, another left, and the third right. I’ll tell the others.” Dean went down the street and turned left, Sam pulling out a walkie talkie they had found, saved for emergencies and direction changes. “We’re going to the nearest highway for gas, over.”

“Got it. We’ll try not to get lost, over,” Pamela said.

“Ready for command,” Jo responded, “over.”

Soon they had confirmation from everyone that they were all okay for the course change. Coming upon the highway, there were cars and trucks varying in damage; some had doors and trunks open; others had been totaled in a crash; a few still with their supplies inside, flies buzzing around. Dean got out of the Impala and placed his right hand on the roof, the left on the door. Everybody waited for his assessment.

“Grab your guns, check the cars. Use your silencers.” With that, they piled out and went around cautiously, checking from behind old cars and searching through a few windows. Only a few corpses remained and they shot them just in case, then beginning their search. “Half of us on gas, rest on supplies. Stay in this area.” He pointed at one red truck turned sideways halfway down, not too far from the government-assembled barricades. They quickly got to work, Dean going through the trunk of an old car and finding a knife. He stuck it in his pocket, Charlie looking up from where she was inspecting bags beside him.

“Hey, maybe we should get a permanent - or at least temporary - camp. It’ll help,” she said with a shrug. “Moving around all the time is taking its toll.”

“We’ll be sitting ducks,” Dean muttered, rummaging through a duffel filled with children’s clothing for anything useful. “Waiting for something to come along and massacre us.”

“Y’know, you’re kinda paranoid,” Charlie said, chuckling. Dean shot her the look.

“It’s the damn apocalypse. Shit goes down, nothing counts as paranoid.”

“Dean, look, I know everything’s gone to Hell but maybe we should have a home-”

“Home’s with my family. You’re all my family. No matter where we go, we’re good.” He made it clear that was the end of the conversation, so Charlie stayed quiet. Dean would’ve smiled at himself for his success, but that was the old Dean. The new Dean didn’t smile or laugh. The new Dean got what he had to do done, no questions asked. Shoot first. Ask later.

“Holy crap,” he heard someone say. Dean left his useless investigating of the car in favor of finding out what someone had discovered. He found Jo standing by a large truck, the back open. When he rounded it he wanted to smile, but didn’t despite his inner relief. It was a truck filled with survival supplies, and not the small trucks that people drive, no, the industrial trucks that carry shipment after shipment of things.

“Damn,” he said to himself, mind already thinking about what they’d do with it all, seeing boxes of canned goods, water bottles, clothes and gas jugs. “Round everyone up.” Instead of calling out to them, Jo ran around and collected the group to go by the door - they couldn’t risk loud noises, lest they give away their location. Dean hauled himself inside, stepping around and making sure there weren’t any Croats. He scoffed at himself, since calling them Croats was kind of stupid when he thought about it, having been given by the name by his brother, who had supposed that a disease had wiped out those in Croatoan. The name fit, however, so he kept it. No point in changing it now.

“Guys, take as much stuff as you can and load ‘em up. Throw out anything we don’t need.” Pamela and Sam got in beside him and passed things out as the others dashed from the truck to their cars, drinking a few water bottles and actually being able to eat lunch. Dean irritatedly ate his can of soup, Sam having insisted on him eating something.

“So,” Bobby began, “with all this stuff we’ll need a place to stay. No point in wasting gas if we have a good place, right?” Everyone looked toward Dean. Dean grit his teeth, hating being put on the spot like that. The worst part was, he knew they were right. They wouldn’t be sitting ducks if they could defend themselves. They’d be safe and have shelter and they’d be able to get sleep.

“Fine,” he snapped, “we’ll search tomorrow.” He crushed the empty can and tossed it onto the ground, the can making a tapping noise before settling. “As soon as you’re done get back to work. We can’t slack off just because we got something good.” Dean stood from where he was sitting on the edge of the truck’s entrance, going to the front and grunting as he picked up a large case of water bottles. He started bringing them to the front to make packing go faster, hearing hushed whispers.

“Dean really needs to relax,” Charlie said quietly, holding her hand to the side of her mouth as if to keep Dean from hearing.

“Let someone else take lead for a change,” Ellen agreed, “that boy is too wound up.”

“Definitely,” Jody chimed in, “maybe getting a permanent settlement will be good for him.”

“He’ll just be patrolling the whole time,” Bobby reminded them, putting down his lunch. He stood and nodded to himself. “Let’s just get this done and maybe get some sleep tonight.” Dean was angered by their ‘secret’ conversation. He couldn’t relax. None of them could. To even think of it for a second meant they should just surrender and die.

That night everyone finished their work and had another meal with tons of food left to spare. “I heard there’s an old bunker in Lebanon,” Sam said as they tried to fall asleep, safely inside the truck with only the faint moaning of the zombies to be heard.

“Lebanon’s too far off,” Dean muttered, dismissing the suggestion as he sat against the wall, machine gun in hand. He didn’t like the idea considering the distance and more chance for death, along with the fact that they’d pass through their old home in Lawrence.

“Remember the panic room I built?” Bobby added with a roll of his eyes, “back in Sioux Falls.”

“Too far,” Dean said again. Pamela sat up suddenly in her sleeping back, all attention turning to her.

“Pontiac,” she murmured, “there’s a barn in Pontiac. I heard about it, some crazy guy who predicted the apocalypse, a guy named Carver, he bought a bunker down there. We’re close.” Dean pouted and considered the idea. He then came to a decision.

“Fine. Pontiac it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I'm glad to see you all are loving this!!!! I'll update every Monday and Friday, and probably go on short hiatuses to write chapters if I run out. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel considered himself an angel fallen from Grace, having been reduced to nothing more than a stoner who was the leader of a rag-tag group of underdogs. Nothing could come in handy. Not an archaeologist, not a selfless charity-runner, not a barely-finished college student nor a nurse that didn’t complete training. He doubted Hannah knew how to properly treat an amputation wound, to which he would say cauterize and bandage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, I'm not sure if this counts as self-harm, but I don't want to trigger anyone, so here's a warning; Cas has a tendency to put out cigarettes on his wrist because he honestly doesn't care that he does. Sorry, just letting you know. Enjoy!

“Shit. I need a smoke.” Being the leader of the survivor group the Angels was a tiring task, and Castiel Novak knew it well. Despite being far from the eldest of his group, he had still been appointed as the ‘president’ of sorts because of his precision, strategy, and shooting abilities.

He sat down at a table in the main room of their secret hideaway, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and taking one. He let it hang from his lip as he pulled out a lighter, the flame turn the end of the cigarette red. As he took a drag he began to feel better, having just been informed that they needed more food. He always tended to think better when he was smoking.

“Fine. Send out Gabriel, Lucifer and Michael. They can get the job done.” He stood and put his hands in his pockets, the messenger, his cousin Samandriel, following. Going into the infirmary he saw his sister Hannah treating the wounds of one of his other cousins, Anna. He chuckled a little at that, making his presence known.

“Castiel,” Hannah acknowledged, “her gunshot wound is healing nicely. She’ll be fine in no time.” Castiel walked over and pulled out his cigarette, releasing a puff of smoke up into the air and putting it out on his wrist. It burned, of course, but he’d been shot in the stomach once or twice before. He now had an assortment of burn marks on his arm, usually helping him count the days since this all started. He’d only picked up smoking when the apocalypse began, really.

His cousin, on the other hand, had gotten off easy, a clean shot through the thigh, somehow not damaging her that much. She grit her teeth and groaned as a stitch was reapplied, having been torn. Luckily for her, the zombie blood that had been on the bullet hadn’t infected her.

“You’re one lucky girl,” his father, Chuck, said with a nod. Castiel threw his cigarette away and rubbed his temples, ready to make a few decisions. He sat down in a chair beside Anna’s cot, thinking.

“Samandriel, please go tell the archangels to go searching for food tomorrow. Take my Lincoln. Alright? It’s almost nightfall, can’t go out tonight.” He glanced to the clock hanging above the doorway. “Father, how many days has it been? Since the apocalypse began?”

“About five years, Cassie.” Castiel leaned back in his seat, sighing. They’d been down there for five years now, the year 2014. No one had known of the secret bunker his father had found, so the extended family had all packed in once the world turned to Hell.

Their lives had been Heaven before that; they’d been financially secure and on their way to bright futures. Hannah was going to be a nurse. Anna was going to be a lawyer. Lucifer a cunning drug dealer, which no one approved of. Michael a leader of a rights’ group and charity fundraiser. Samandriel was going to finish college. Balthazar had wanted to be an archaeologist. Or find a way to build a time machine to un-sink the Titanic, since that Celine Dion song drove him crazy.

Castiel considered himself an angel fallen from Grace, having been reduced to nothing more than a stoner who was the leader of a rag-tag group of underdogs. Nothing could come in handy. Not an archaeologist, not a selfless charity-runner, not a barely-finished college student nor a nurse that didn’t complete training. He doubted Hannah knew how to properly treat an amputation wound, to which he would say cauterize and bandage.

He looked around at those assembled and counted the rest in his head. So much of his family had been lost. Many had sacrificed themselves and others had made stupid mistakes. They even lost their mother to a zombie the second the outbreak started.

Castiel looked up when he heard the crumbling of the old barn overhead. It needed to be repaired -  _ again _ \- before any Demons came through. That was what his group called them, considering they were the enemies of the angelically-named family. So they adopted the name, finding ‘zombies’ to be too comic book-like. 

Castiel scratched at the overgrown stubble on his face. He needed to shave that down soon. He needed to do a lot of things lately. “I’m gonna go shower,” he said spontaneously, standing and leaving the room.

The moment he let the hot water - yes,  _ hot _ \- wash over him, he felt as if he was put at ease. Of course he wasn’t, considering it was the damn apocalypse, but he had some moments to himself. What he’d give for some booze right about then… He had to remember, though, supplies were always limited. He sighed and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist and not minding the water dripping off his hair and down onto the floor. He padded quietly to his room in the bunker, liking the solitude of it as he closed the door with a small click.

He changed into a light blue shirt and some jeans, stretching his arms. He glanced to the trench coat folded on his dresser and decided to wear it tomorrow, and for now flopped onto his bed and tried to sleep.

He couldn’t sleep.

As per usual.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one was supposed to mention his name, the name of his deceased twin brother. He’d died saving his daughter, Claire, who had grown up too fast because of Castiel. Castiel had gotten them into that mess, with them all surrounded by Demons and Jimmy giving himself up for the both of them… She hated him now for taking her father away. Her mother, on the other hand, had gone out on a mission one day. And never came back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention there's drug abuse? Cas does a lot of drugs. He's like 2014!Cas, just letting you know. Oops, sorry. I'm glad to see you're liking everything, though!

“Everybody suit up!” Castiel went down the bedroom hallways, playing a recording of a loud ringing. He heard groans of annoyance from inside the rooms, then feet hitting the floor. He nodded to himself, satisfied, and went into the kitchen. Hannah was already up and making breakfast, the ‘mother’ of the group.

“Good morning, Castiel,” she said. It used to be said cheerfully, but that faded away as everything went on.

“Good mornings don’t exist,” Castiel grumbled, picking up a plate of scrambled eggs and having a bite.

“Got the munchies again?” a voice taunted. Castiel turned to see his older brother, Gabriel, leaning against the doorframe and smiling. Castiel rolled his eyes. Why Gabriel smiled, he never knew.

“Screw you,” Castiel shot back, not in the mood for any of his shit. 

“What, just trying to make a joke,” Gabriel defended, holding his hands up innocently. Hannah sighed.

“Please don’t fight. I don’t need any broken dishes to clean up,” she said gently. Castiel nodded again, silently sitting at the table and eating his breakfast. Soon everyone had gathered and Castiel cleared his throat - not like he needed to do that, seeing as how everyone was focused on their internal duties of the day, not speaking.

“Okay. Today’s agenda-” he began, but Chuck stopped him.

“Can we say grace today?” he asked. Castiel let out a slow breath. How his father still believed in God… He couldn’t fathom or understand it. There was no God, yet some would claim this was the rapture.

“Yeah, sure.” Everyone linked hands and bowed their heads.

“God, we thank you for this bountiful food and the fortune you have given us,” Chuck began, “and please, assure our family will live up in Heaven when we meet our inevitable ends-”

“Nice, Chuck, great way to lighten the mood,” Lucifer muttered. Chuck shot him a glare.

“And let our people rest in Your hands,” he continued. “Raphael, Hester, Uriel, Zachariah, Naomi… and Jimmy.” Castiel grit his teeth as they let go of each other’s hands. No one was supposed to mention his name, the name of his deceased twin brother. He’d died saving his daughter, Claire, who had grown up too fast because of Castiel. Castiel had gotten them into that mess, with them all surrounded by Demons and Jimmy giving himself up for the both of them… At that moment Claire walked in, wearing her usual attire. Chuck quickly finished the prayer and Claire sat at the table on the end furthest away from Castiel. She hated him now for taking her father away. Her mother, on the other hand, had gone out on a mission one day. And never came back.

“Now back to business.” Castiel looked around the table for any objections. “We need food and stuff to fix the barn. Archangels, you can get the food. Balthazar, Anna, Father and I will find wood and tools at the nearby store. The rest of you stay home and do what you gotta do. That okay?”

“I’m coming.” Castiel looked up to the source of the voice.

“Claire, you’re staying behind. Help Hannah guard the place.” Claire stood and slammed her hands on the table, rattling the silverware.

“I’m coming! I’ll go with Lucifer and Gabriel and Michael, I’ll be fine!”

“I said no!” Castiel huffed out a breath, setting his jaw. “If you set one foot outside of this bunker I swear to whatever higher power is out there I will lock you in your room and throw away the key.” Claire picked up her plate and turned away.

“I’m going to eat somewhere else,” she said, stomping out of the room. Breakfast was usually a quiet affair because of their arguments. They could never come to an agreement on anything and, really, Castiel wanted to be the father Claire couldn’t have back. It wouldn’t happen, though, since having a stoner for a foster dad wouldn’t go over well. Castiel rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a bottle of amphetamines, taking a few. He swallowed them down with water and wiped his lip, putting the bottle away. They finished their meal without any further disruptions, everyone standing and getting ready to go.

Castiel went back into his room and changed into his button-down shirt, slacks and dress shoes, putting on a loosely fitting blue tie and his coat. It wasn’t very practical for killing Demons but he thought it his trademark. When he went up through the trapdoor and outside he saw everyone assembled. He cupped his hands around his mouth, somewhat yelling, “Listen up!” All heads turned to him. He pointed to the machine gun that was set up on top of a dark green truck. “Lucifer, man the gun. You, Michael and Gabriel get that one. The others who’re with me, get in the back of that truck with your guns.” He then pointed to a blue one.

Everybody quickly got to their stations, making sure they had a pack filled with what they needed for the journey; food, water, medical supplies and, for Castiel, a few pill bottles and a pack of cigarettes. He and Anna sat on the truck bed while Balthazar and Chuck went in the front, Lucifer on top of their vehicle with the other two brothers inside the car. “Roll out!” Castiel shouted, the engines starting and driving away from their safe haven, into their Demon infested wasteland of a world.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The chances of survivors are low. If we do find them, we let them know this place is ours.” They would’ve been shocked at Dean’s statement but they knew him well enough by now to know he didn’t care much about anyone else other than his family. He’d even killed a few people who had wanted to join, a part of him saying they would turn on them. His only thoughts were on survival. Those who had known him before the apocalypse - Bobby, Sam, and Charlie - missed the old, trusting, and caring Dean. But now he was gone. “And if anyone gets bit, you know what to do.” The Hunters exchanged glances and nodded solemnly.

The Impala purred loudly as Dean sped it down an unblocked road. The others were following his lead, going just as fast from behind him. They were quickly getting to their destination in Pontiac, stopping at unraided shops and stores along the way. They now had supplies fit for a gigantic group and they would surely last them a long time. They barely even had room for it all and had to toss the animal food they’d kept for emergencies. Still, now they had water, batteries, ammo and much more.

“So, Dean,” Sam began, Dean glancing to him.

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“What if the place is crawling with Croats?” Dean chuckled, not cockily, but confidently.

“Then we’ll wipe ‘em out. Easy and simple. Remember, Sammy, stay in the middle. Don’t break formation.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“I  _ know _ , Dean. Both you and Dad must’ve told me that over a hundred times.” Dean knew they’d both said that to Sam a lot. That’s what John drilled into Dean’s head, that Sam mattered more, and that’s what Dean made sure to make Sam understand.

“You gotta remember it, though. There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you, understand?” Sam huffed out a breath.

“Sure, whatever you say. I swear, you’re like a damn governor with all the orders you give us. Should I just start calling you that from now on?”

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean used that tone in his voice that he barely used with Sam. It was the voice John would always use when he talked to Dean. It was authoritative and cold, unkind and unloving, void of any emotion. “Just listen to my rules. Don’t stray.” He then stopped talking, quiet. It was hours before anything happened, but then Sam pointed out the window to a passing building.

“There. That’s the barn.” Dean made a sudden right turn and the others followed without question. They passed a small fence and pulled up to its side, seeing the place boarded up.

They each took up their guns, Dean making sure his machete was properly holstered and his gun was completely loaded. He went up to the door and the others gathered, their weapons pointed at the ground but in hand, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. “We’re gonna go in there and stay in formation,” Dean whispered loud enough to be heard, “and we’re gonna wipe out any Croats we come across.”

“What about survivors?” Charlie questioned. Dean shook his head.

“The chances of survivors are low. If we do find them, we let them know this place is ours.” They would’ve been shocked at Dean’s statement but they knew him well enough by now to know he didn’t care much about anyone else other than his family. He’d even killed a few people who had wanted to join, a part of him saying they would turn on them. His only thoughts were on survival. Those who had known him before the apocalypse - Bobby, Sam, and Charlie - missed the old, trusting, and caring Dean. But now he was gone. “And if anyone gets bit, you know what to do.” The Hunters exchanged glances and nodded solemnly. “Move out.” With that order they all got back-to-back in a circle, Dean leading. He kicked the door open, revealing a dark and dusty room inside. “Find the door.”

“It’s a trap door,” Pamela said quietly, “in the floorboards. One that doesn’t belong.” Everyone knew to trust her assessment; she’d never been wrong before. “I don’t think anyone’s here.” Dean gave a single nod and they spread out, Ellen making sure to close the door. Bobby gave her some rope he had and she tied the doorknobs together, keeping them firmly closed.

“This place is well boarded up,” Jo observed, her shotgun firmly in her hands as she looked around, “roof needs repairing, though.” She pointed up where a sliver of light pierced the darkness. Sam knelt down to the floor by the farthest left corner, feeling the wood.

“Psst!” Everyone looked to him. “I found it.” They all came around it and Dean hauled it open, revealing a staircase leading down in a spiral. He motioned with the index and middle finger of his right hand, pointing down. They understood the message, Dean leading the line as they headed down into unknown territory.

When they appeared at the end of the staircase there was another door. Dean bent down and looked back at Charlie, who rummaged through her pocket for a bobby pin. Dean used it to pick the lock and they burst inside, going down a small flight of stairs to the main floor. They fanned out and found the room was large, with a table and walls lined with books.

“Search the place,” Dean commanded, “kill anything you see that doesn’t talk. Anyone else, bring them here. They’re just casualties.” Sam grit his teeth at that.

“They’re not just casualties,” he muttered, receiving a glare from his older brother.

“Nobody matters but us. Got it?” Sam stayed quiet and began to leave along with the others, Dean stepping forward and grabbing his arm, stopping him. “Stay the hell here. While we take our bunker you’re gonna stay here safe.”

Then he heard a gun cock and cold metal press against the back of his head. “ _ Your _ bunker?”

That marked the first time Pamela was wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean pulled out his handgun and spun around quickly, pressing the barrel to his attacker’s forehead. Both at point-blank range, their groups quickly assembled behind them. Dean saw blue eyes staring into his own, both breathing heavy and their families with their guns ready to fire, everyone matched and prepared to kill and fight to the death.

Dean pulled out his handgun and spun around quickly, pressing the barrel to his attacker’s forehead. Both at point-blank range, their groups quickly assembled behind them. Dean saw blue eyes staring into his own, both breathing heavy and their families with their guns ready to fire, everyone matched and prepared to kill and fight to the death.

“Yeah,  _ my _ bunker,” Dean hissed, cocking his gun with a click and skirting his finger over the trigger. “Now do I have to kill you or are you gonna leave?”

“Oh, won’t it be a shame to kill someone with such a pretty face?” the other man questioned rhetorically, a sarcastic pout coming to his own. “Lucifer, go check on Hannah and Claire. Now!” He went to move but guns loaded with a click, Lucifer stopping dead in his tracks.

“Anyone moves and you die,” Dean said coldly. The dark-haired man grit his teeth.

“Let me check on my damn sister and daughter!” Dean set his jaw, ready to pull the trigger.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of ‘em. C’mon, buddy, leave now or I’ll blow your friggin’ brains out.” Dean shrugged and chuckled darkly. “Or you can pull the trigger.”

“That can be arranged.” The man stretched his full lips into a smirk. “And I’ll slaughter your little friends, too.”

“Oh you sunnuva-”

“Dean!” Sam’s voice pierced the silence that surrounded his conversation with the man with the gun to his head. “Have a heart.” Sam unloaded his gun and held up his hands. “Let’s talk.”

“Sammy, what the hell are you doing?!” Dean yelled, outraged. “Reload your damn gun! There’s one rule; don’t die!” The man rose his eyebrows and let out an interested yet satisfied ‘hm’ before training his pistol on Sam. Dean’s eyes grew wide.

“Maybe I’ll kill him instead.” Fire burned behind Dean’s acid-green irises.

“I’ll kill you!”

“Not before I kill him.” A smooth female voice cut Dean off and he glanced out of the corner of his eye to see a young blonde girl with her gun to Sam’s head. “And I’m not your damn daughter, Castiel.” The man, apparently Castiel, grit his teeth, but then laughed.

“You’re dead,  _ Dean _ ,” he growled, “now surrender or I’ll make sure the Demons up there’ll get a nice big dinner tonight.” Dean swallowed and considered the situation. Castiel merely watched, chest taking in slow, steady breaths, as Dean let the clip of bullets clatter to the ground and he held up his hands similarly to Sam, getting onto his knees.

“Guys,” he said simply, and everyone followed his lead. He knew they would all die if he tried retaliating against this  _ Castiel _ guy. Castiel nodded to his group and they all stepped forward, guns aiming at Dean’s friends’ heads. He instantly became afraid. God, he was never afraid. He always faced death with a laugh and a… A machete. No… That would be too obvious. Then Dean remembered the knife in his pocket. While Castiel was commanding his soldiers, Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out the knife slowly, quickly plunging it into Castiel’s leg and ripping it out. The man cried out and fell to the ground, clutching the bleeding wound.

“Kill them!” Castiel shouted, “Kill them all!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late post, I've been busy with schoolwork lately.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel grunted and felt hot, crimson blood gushing onto his hands. “Kill them!” he shouted, “Kill them all!” His face contorted into a mad grin as he expected to hear gunfire… but didn’t. His breathing was fast and he felt betrayed, no one moving. “I said kill them!”

Castiel grunted and felt hot, crimson blood gushing onto his hands. “Kill them!” he shouted, “Kill them all!” His face contorted into a mad grin as he expected to hear gunfire… but didn’t. His breathing was fast and he felt betrayed, no one moving. “I said kill them!”

“Looks like they ain’t listenin’, pal,” the other man, Dean, said with a laugh. He stood and raised his eyebrows, dropping the knife then reloading his gun with a swift movement of his hands. He realized why the bullets hadn’t whizzed by him in a flurry of death; Hannah was standing between the groups.

“Stop!” She sighed, tears going down her face. “Please. Don’t hurt him.” How Hannah could bring two armies to the point where they wouldn’t do anything, Castiel had no clue.

“Kill them!” he commanded again, “kill the bastard!” Castiel’s family lowered their guns and he grit his teeth, struggling to stand. He groaned at the pressure on the wound, spontaneously kicking the rival leader’s chest. He fell onto his back with a harsh grunt and Castiel tackled him, the gun skidding across the floor. Still, nobody did anything. “Hannah, dammit, go away!” They both struggled against each other and Dean reached for the knife, just out of his grasp. Castiel clasped his hands together in a fist and slammed them on Dean’s stomach, knocking the wind from him. In all the confusion Balthazar had pulled Hannah away, but not before they’d all dropped and unloaded their guns. The groups began attacking, punching and kicking. Dean flipped them over and raised his fist, laughing as blood trickled from a split lip Castiel had given him.

“Lights out, sweetheart,” he snarled, but Castiel grinned despite the pain stinging his leg.

“Behind you.” Dean furrowed his brow in befuddlement before Anna clocked the back of his head with the butt of her machine gun. The others had been taken down, having put up a good fight - a few of his men having bruises and cuts, some even losing a tooth. Castiel hoisted Dean’s unconscious body off of him and onto the ground, moaning and grabbing at the wound. A puddle of blood spread under him and Hannah helped him up. He let out a breath and his chest heaved, everyone picking up the still barely-fighting members of Dean’s crew or their - also unconscious - forms.

“What do you want us to do?” Chuck asked. Castiel let out a slow, concentrated breath to steady his erratic heartbeat.

“Bring them to the dungeons. Tie the leader up for interrogation. Michael, Gabriel and me, we’ll check their cars. Some of you guys keep watch, Hannah and Claire, please clean this mess.” He paused. “Actually, Claire, stay here.”

“We need to tend to this wound, Castiel,” Hannah said softly as everyone began their work, dragging their enemies away.

“Just get me bandages.” Hannah shook her head.

“You need stitches.”

“Fine,” Castiel grunted, “get me a belt.”

Not too long later he was biting a belt as Hannah applied the stitches without any help from drugs. He had drank some absinthe he had found earlier for the amphetamines, them also having quickly worn off when Hannah had called him, saying someone was in their home. He’d raced there as soon as he could and was met with a green-eyed man laying siege. Hannah cut the string with a pair of scissors before wrapping it in bandages. “There you go,” she said kindly, “all done.” Castiel sat up despite his body’s objections, having acquired a few scrapes and minor bruising.

“Why did you stop them?” he asked through gritted teeth, angry. Hannah licked her lips and opened her mouth to speak when he saw Claire come in.

“Hannah, wanna help us take care of the others?” she asked, and Castiel could see the clear outline of a gun in her pocket. He set his jaw and pursed his lips, standing and ripping it away, unloading it and stuffing the clip in his own pocket. “Hey!”

“Hey nothing!” he said, infuriated, “I didn’t want you in that fight! I didn’t want you hurt!”

“Yeah, well, I fought and we won because of me!” Claire shot, “Without me pointing a gun at that guy’s head you all would’ve died!”

“Like you don’t want us dead,” Castiel mumbled. Claire’s hands turned to fists. Suddenly she threw a punch at Castiel’s face, the man shocked. He put a hand to where her fist had collided with his cheek, blinking and lips parted.

“I wish you died instead of my Dad,” she hissed before walking out. Castiel closed his eyes, sighing.

“Hannah,” he said quietly, “go help the rest of them take care of our guests. Treat everyone except the leader. I’m taking care of him.” Before Hannah could say anything to stop him, he limped off and out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn these football games... Sorry about the late post again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas put a hand to the side of his mouth. “He’s with your brother.” He smiled a bit obnoxiously, most likely on purpose. “Put Sam on, please.” There was the sound of walking coming from the other end. “Hello, Sam. How would you like to play a game of Russian Roulette?”

Dean’s head rolled forward and he let out a low grunt. His eyes opened slowly and his vision blurred before clearing. He found himself in a dark room, alone, chained and tied firmly to a chair. He grit his teeth and fought against his bonds despite his fatigue, hearing the sound of something scraping. The wall he was facing opened and Castiel came inside, yet limping, with a gun in his hand. “Come in here to finish me off, asshole?” Dean got out, struggling to break the chains. They were taut around him and he felt like his wrists were being pulled off. The dark haired, blue-eyed man chuckled and stood in front of him, putting pressure on his left leg as opposed to his right. Dean smiled. “Got you good, huh?”

“Says the one tied to a chair,” Castiel said lowly, staring at him. Studying him, even. Dean laughed, looking down into his lap and then back up at him.

“Cas, if you want a piece of this, you better buy me a drink first.” In response he earned an uppercut to the face, soon feeling warmth pouring from his nose. “So, you like it rough.”

“You son of a  _ bitch _ ,” Castiel - now, in Dean’s mind, dubbed Cas - spat.

“My Mom was a very nice woman, actually.” Cas, in his anger, picked up his gun and stepped forward, gripping the collar of Dean’s shirt and pressing the end of the barrel to his forehead, their faces close together.

“Don’t think I won’t pull the trigger,” he hissed, “I won’t have any qualms about it.”

“Then do it, shithead.” Cas growled before stepping back. He suddenly smiled.

“Y’know, your car’s pretty nice. Had a lot of supplies, too.” Dean clenched his teeth.

“That stuff is ours!”

“Just like my bunker?” Cas asked, eyebrows raised in rhetorical questioning. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag. “Thanks for everything. It’s very helpful. We were just about to run out of food, anyway.”

“You won’t need it when I kill you all,” Dean said coldly. Cas smiled and tilted his head to the side, taking a walkie talkie out of his pocket. He waved it in front of Dean and held down the button.

“Gabriel,” he called, “how many bullets are in that revolver of yours?” He let go of the button and waited for a response.

“One.” Dean felt fear and hatred blooming inside of him.

Cas put a hand to the side of his mouth. “He’s with your brother.” He smiled a bit obnoxiously, most likely on purpose. “Put Sam on, please.” There was the sound of walking coming from the other end. “Hello, Sam. How would you like to play a game of Russian Roulette?” Dean’s fight against the chains grew in ferocity, wanting to strangle the sonuvabitch who sought to hurt his brother.

“I’ll kill you, dick! You touch him and I  _ swear _ -”

“Gabriel, spin.” There was the distinct sound of the cylinder spinning and clicking, finally stopping. “Hold it to his head.”

“Dean,” Sam breathed from the machine, “tell him what he wants to know. He’ll kill us all if you don’t.”

“Sammy, hold on!” Dean shouted. Cas’ smile turned to a grin.

“Gabriel?”

“Yeah, Cassie?” Dean’s heart sank.

“Pull the trigger.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean shut his eyes and couldn’t prepare himself for the worst. He was prepared to die at the hands of a madman hellbent on killing or interrogating him, he was prepared to be ripped apart by Croats, but he wasn’t prepared to lose his brother.

Those words were his death sentence.

Not just Sam’s, but they were Dean’s too, and both he and Castiel knew it.

Dean shut his eyes and couldn’t prepare himself for the worst. He was prepared to die at the hands of a madman hellbent on killing or interrogating him, he was prepared to be ripped apart by Croats, but he wasn’t prepared to lose his brother.

The clicking of an empty chamber echoed throughout the room.

Cas frowned. “What a pity. Shall we try again?” There was another spinning sound and Dean tried with all his might to escape the chains.

“Dean, please!” Dean swallowed, breathing heavy. He closed his eyes in defeat.

“What do you want?” Cas nodded to himself.

“Gabriel, put down the gun.” There was a clattering of something hitting the floor. “Good.” Then nothing came from the walkie talkie and Cas pocketed it once again. “First thing’s first,” he began, “introductions. Who are you?”

“Who’re you?” Dean questioned back.

“I asked first.” Dean groaned from annoyance.

“The Hunters.”

“The Hunters?” Cas repeated, sounding almost disgusted, “What’re you, a cannibal group?”

“Where’d you get that from, a damn comic book?” Cas only shrugged again. Dean looked him over as Cas took out and lit a cigarette, and leaned against the wall, puffing out a ring of smoke while holding the cig between two fingers. In all honesty, Cas was a handsome son of a bitch. With blue eyes, dark, messy hair, a strong frame and personality to match, he was the kind of guy Dean would’ve gone for before the apocalypse. But this guy was, quite frankly, cunning and insane. Cas sighed, putting out the cigarette on his wrist and throwing it onto the floor, grinding it under his dress shoe. Why was he wearing a damn dress shoe? Dean wondered.

“I’m Castiel. Leader of the Angels.”

“Then call me the Righteous Man,” Dean said with a cocky grin.

“Oh go to Hell,” Cas said emotionlessly, clearly exasperated.

“Already livin’ it, baby.” Dean gave that charming, sarcastic smile of his that usually helped attract possible one-night stands. Cas seemed unconvinced. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Why did you come here?”

“Needed a place to stay. Too many supplies. Now let my damn group go.” Cas raised an eyebrow.

“No.” Dean scowled.

“Let. Them. Go. You want me. Not them.”

“Leverage,” Castiel replied simply.

“You’re one sick sunnuvabitch, y’know that?”

“Not really.” He began to walk out, pulling the door shut behind him. Dean became confused and angry.

“You’re just gonna leave me in here?!”

“Yeah,” Castiel said casually, leaving the door open a crack, “Enjoy your stay at Castiel’s B&B. Minus the beds and the breakfast.” And with that it closed with a bang.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you mind if Sam and I have a chat alone? I need to sort some things out.”

Castiel hobbled out of the dungeon/torture room and found Hannah standing there with crutches. “Castiel, you’re going to tear your stitches!” Castiel sighed, finding her doting on him to be both demeaning and annoying.

“Fine,” he grumbled, snatching the crutches away and putting them on. “Hannah, you know you aren’t my personal nurse, right? I’m not saying ‘ _ hello, nurse! _ ’ every time I see you.” Hannah blushed and looked to the floor.

“I just thought you could try to relax for a second.” Castiel pondered that for a moment and took out his pill bottle, taking a few.

“Yeah, sure. Put Michael in charge, please.” Castiel brought himself into the main room, picking a book off the shelf. He sat down and opened it, soon becoming bored of its repetitive words, and the fact that Hannah was watching him by the door. Castiel sighed, trying to keep calm.

“Don’t you have something to do?” he asked, then standing. “I’m going to go talk to Sam.”

“Let me go with you,” Hannah offered. Castiel shook his head.

“Just go off and make sure everyone’s okay.” Castiel then took his crutches and went off to the dungeon chamber beside Dean’s, entering to see Gabriel and Sam casually talking as if they weren’t fighting.

“So Castiel’s your leader?” Sam asked, clearly interested. Neither noticed Castiel by the door.

“Yeah. He’s a bit of an ass at times but he gets the job done.” Gabriel shrugged. “You, on the other hand, how’s Dean?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Same thing.”

“Yes, but you’re more logical and sensible than your brother.” Castiel made his presence known, stepping inside the room with the rhythmic click of crutches. Gabriel smiled at him.

“Hey, Cassie, how’s everything?”

“My leg got stabbed,” Castiel said flatly, “What do you think?” Gabriel went silent and pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket, taking a bite. Castiel turned to him, smiling slightly. “Do you mind if Sam and I have a chat alone? I need to sort some things out.” Gabriel nodded.

“Sure.” With that he was gone, Castiel and Sam left alone.

Sam had no clue what to expect as Castiel reached into the pocket of his coat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So you don’t want us dead?”
> 
> “Not really.” Castiel sighed, propping his head on the back of the chair. “The more survivors the better, right? If you’d cooperate, well, that’s all I could ask for. Your brother poses a challenge to that idea.” He closed his eyes. “I’m actually very tired of this job. Perhaps your brother could take over. I’d just like to spend time with Claire.”

“You don’t mind if I smoke, right?” Castiel asked casually. Sam was confused at the question. How could he be acting so nonchalant when he’d taken his brother and his group as prisoners? he wondered. Sam didn’t really understand it at all.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, or something?” he asked, “Gabe told me you probably almost put a bullet in my brother’s head.” Castiel shrugged.

“Nearly. But he’s too… Visually pleasing. It’d be fun having him around.” Castiel pulled up a chair from the side of the room and turned it around, propping the crutches against it sitting with a slight grunt. “Really did a number on me. How nice to greet someone with a knife.”

“Versus a gun to the head? I think I’d rather a stab wound.” Sam knit his brow before realizing what he said. He didn’t know this man, he could only assume he would take out a knife and stab him right then and there.

“I’d go for the Russian Roulette.” Castiel chuckled. “Just letting you know, it was a bluff.”

“What?” Sam questioned, perplexed.

“Gabriel - or Gabe, as you call him - knew the gun wasn’t loaded. I did too. It was just to get information. Sorry.” Sam moved his chin to the side a fraction and rose his eyebrows.

“So you don’t want us dead?”

“Not really.” Castiel sighed, propping his head on the back of the chair. “The more survivors the better, right? If you’d cooperate, well, that’s all I could ask for. Your brother poses a challenge to that idea.” He closed his eyes. “I’m actually very tired of this job. Perhaps your brother could take over. I’d just like to spend time with Claire.”

“Your daughter, right?” Sam clarified. Castiel shook his head.

“No. She was my twin brother’s daughter.” By the way it sounded… Sam looked down.

“So he didn’t survive,” Sam murmured.

“He didn’t,” Castiel said quietly, “She misses him. Resents me for his death. I was the cause of it.” He glanced to Sam for a moment. “That’s why I could never bring myself to kill you, nor your brother. I know the pain.” Sam swallowed.

“Okay. Um… D’ya mind letting us go? I swear, we won’t be trouble.” Sam pleaded with his eyes, wearing a sympathetic face. “We could even help out, if you’d really like that. Just… Don’t kill us, please?” Castiel nodded.

“Why would I? Like I said, the more the merrier. My group… we’re all related here.” He laughed slightly. “It gets quite boring. And it doesn’t help repopulate, now, does it?” Sam chuckled.

“No, it doesn’t.” He slowly became less afraid of this Castiel guy. He seemed kind of nice. “So, what’re you gonna do with us?”

“Your friends, from what I heard…” Castiel began, “they seem… like you. Willing to listen. I wouldn’t mind allowing you to join our group if you helped us, split your supplies. It’s just your brother I need to convince. He’s a fighter.”

“Hardhead, too.” Sam agreed fully with that. His assessment of Dean was on the money. Castiel looked up at the ceiling and tapped his chin with his index finger.

“So… What could I say that would get him to agree to a truce?” he thought aloud. His eyes landed on Sam and a smile spread across his face. “I know…” Sam felt his breathing quicken and he tugged at his restraints.

“C’mon, Castiel, I thought we had a deal, I thought you’d let us live-”

“Don’t worry, Sam.” Castiel went through his pocket and came up with the object of his desire; a pocketknife. He flipped the blade out and waved it around, nearing him slowly. “I won’t kill you. I merely need to make you scream.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He soon became desperate as Sam’s voice grew hoarse, feeling about ready to gnaw his arms off with his bare teeth when he heard footsteps nearing the door. He grit his teeth, hoping the guy knew to run before Dean got out, because he was prepared to torture and then mercilessly kill Cas for what he’d been doing to them, to his family, to his brother. The door opened and Cas stepped inside, pushing the blade of a pocketknife - to Dean’s horror and anger - dripping with blood back into its place with his index finger, stuffing it into his coat.
> 
> “I just had a very nice conversation with your brother, and let me tell you, he is such a polite man.”

Dean was attempting to break free from the chains holding his wrists down, cutting into them and letting blood drip onto the floor from new wounds, when he heard it.

“No- Castiel don’t- no-  _ agh! _ ” Sam’s screaming echoed throughout the empty chamber, making Dean’s heart stop. With renewed determination, he tugged and used all of his energy and strength. He knew the second he got free he was going to give the handsome bastard a beating so hard he wouldn’t be able to move for weeks.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean shouted, the chains digging into his skin. The puddle created under the arms of the chair became substantially larger. Luckily for him, he realized he hadn’t torn into any arteries.

He soon became desperate as Sam’s voice grew hoarse, feeling about ready to gnaw his arms off with his bare teeth when he heard footsteps nearing the door. He grit his teeth, hoping the guy knew to run before Dean got out, because he was prepared to torture and then mercilessly kill Cas for what he’d been doing to them, to his family, to his brother. The door opened and Cas stepped inside, pushing the blade of a pocketknife - to Dean’s horror and anger - dripping with blood back into its place with his index finger, stuffing it into his coat.

“I just had a very nice conversation with your brother, and let me tell you, he is such a polite man.” Dean was clenching his jaw so hard he had the vague thought that his teeth would shatter.

“You touch my damn brother and I’ll friggin’ kill you!” Cas sighed, leaning against one of his crutches.

“Don’t you mean ‘again’?” Cas taunted, eyebrow raised. Dean responded by pulling fiercely on the chain and grunting from the pain and exertion. Cas huffed out a breath and took another drag of his cigarette. “Now, my pretty little  _ Righteous Man _ ,” he joked, “I have a proposition.”

“You aren’t in the position to damn negotiate!”

“Actually, I am. You, however, are definitely not.” Cas smiled slightly around the cigarette. “Would you care to listen?”   
  
“Go to hell, asshole!” Dean spat. Cas chuckled and tilted his head to the side.

“Already livin’ it, baby,” Cas said, using Dean’s own words against him. Dean knew hope was lost - hell, hope had been lost the second the apocalypse began - but now he felt like there was no chance. They were held captive by a rival group they’d majorly pissed off. Dean’s breathing was ragged and if he’d had any feeling left he would’ve felt tears budding at the edges of his eyes. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He had to be brave. For all of them. He could only imagine how the others were doing, especially if they were being cared for the same way Sam and Dean were. “Please listen. That’s all I ask of you for right now.”

“Bite me!” Cas rolled his eyes, undoing his tie and pulling it off, using his crutches to round behind Dean. Dean struggled and yelled as Cas put the cloth in his mouth and tied it to the back of his head, gagging him enough so he couldn’t talk. Muffled curses escaped through his blue tie and Cas nodded to himself, effectively ‘crutch-ing’ his way back to stand in front of Dean.

“Now isn’t that better?” Cas pulled out his cigarette and paused for a moment, as if pondering his next course of action. “You know, you are quite handsome.” Dean rose his eyebrows at that, saying a smothered, ‘ _ What?’ _ . He had to ask himself how sane this man truly was, but, by the looks of it, he was just trying to stay alive using any method he could. Maybe he was protecting his family just like Dean was, he supposed. “Your brother and I got to talking about a little… proposition, of sorts. First, I’d like to tell you; I will kill none of you.”

“Bullshit!” It came out more like  _ ba-hit! _ , but Cas still chuckled in recognition.

“I won’t, trust me.” Cas sighed, swallowing before putting the cigarette back in his mouth. “I lost my brother. I wouldn’t want to take you from yours, or vise versa. I wouldn’t want to lose anyone in my family, and you don’t either, now do you? No. You don’t. That’s why the gun was filled with blanks. Hell, it wasn’t even loaded. And I didn’t hurt your brother too badly. At the moment both Hannah and Gabe are tending to his wounds. It was just a few slashes on his arms.” Dean sighed in relief, hoping he could take Castiel’s word.

“I thought we could have a nice little arrangement. You came here for shelter, and we can give it to you. We have more than enough rooms and we have electricity along with water. But I have a few conditions.” He paused, as if waiting for Dean to express his objections. Dean rolled his eyes and silently told him to get on with it. “You split your supplies. You can lead alongside me - you seem like a very good leader, you’re well-suited for the role. Your friends assist mine when it comes to missions and searches, anything else we may need.” Cas thought for a second. “We need to promise not to kill or hurt each other unless provoked, understand? And…” Cas leaned on one crutch, glancing to the door. “You have to let me spend some time with Claire.”

Dean wondered why there were so many conditions to their staying with the Angels. Like he’d take the deal, anyway. These angels were more like demons despite their biblically-themed names. Though, he had to ask, who would name their kid Lucifer?

“That’s all I’m asking as of right now. It doesn’t seem like much to me. Just… Being nice to each other. Not getting in each other’s way and doing what we must to live. Is that reasonable?” Dean nodded. “I’m going to untie your arm now. Just one.” Cas went forward hesitantly and Dean tracked him with his eyes as he went and pulled out a key, unlocking the chain on his left wrist. Despite being somewhat uncoordinated from lack of use, Dean easily punched Cas square in the face and the other man stumbled back, dropping the key, nose clearly bleeding. Dean stretched and picked it up while Cas was disoriented, scrambling to unlock his other hand. “You assbutt!” Cas growled randomly, making Dean laugh as he freed his arms and pulled off the gag.

“Assbutt? Really?” Cas rushed at him and delivered an uppercut to Dean’s jaw, making more blood from his split lip drip onto the old crusted red, and he tasted iron on his tongue. Dean lost his balance and fell onto the floor, the air knocked from him as he hurriedly unlocked one leg and kicked out - he missed his target and hit Cas’ stomach, but he hit him nonetheless. In all the madness Cas had lost the crutch for his right leg, falling to the floor at the new blow, his coat over him like some kind of blanket. Dean came to stand over him, triumphant, and searched for a weapon. He went over to the chair and rammed his foot onto the wood, splitting it from the base and creating a splintered club. He laughed, watching as Cas coughed and hacked blood onto the floor. “I was provoked.”

“Are you gonna finish me off?” Cas got out weakly, chuckling as blood shone on his lip from the dim light of the room, “Are you gonna kill me and begin a war? Everyone you have are defenseless. My people are armed.” He laid his head on the floor, as if in surrender. “They will avenge me.”

“Not before I slaughter you all,” Dean hissed, raising the weapon high up into the air, ready to shove it into Cas’ body when there was the clicking of a gun.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She quickly shifted her aim and pulled the trigger, Dean grunting loudly from pain as he crumpled to the floor, coming to kneel on his knees, upper leg shooting pain through his nerves. He looked down and saw a bullet wound, deep red blood spilling around it.

At the entrance, gun shaking in her hands, Hannah stood with it pointed at Dean’s chest. “Don’t hurt him,” she ordered in a wavering yet firm voice, “if you do I’ll kill everyone you’ve ever cared about.” Dean chuckled.

“Sorry to say, sweetie, but half of those people are dead. Hell, maybe two thirds.” The look on her face told him that now wasn’t the time for witty banter. He set his jaw and emotionlessly looked over everything, then letting the wood clatter to the ground. Castiel was still wheezing and struggling to breathe properly, Hannah slowly moving toward him with one hand still pointing the loaded and armed gun at Dean.

“Castiel,” she asked gently, bending down and putting a hand to his shoulder, “are you alright?” She looked over him and saw blood on the bottom of his coat, around the stab wound. “You tore your stitches.”

“This asshat here didn’t quite help matters,” Cas muttered, his blood dripping onto the floor. Dean’s wrists had stopped bleeding by then, but the room was filled with the stench of copper. Dean licked his teeth a little, knowing they were covered in his blood. The smell and taste of blood was something he had gotten quite used to.

“He broke your nose,” Hannah softly admonished. She paused, usually kind features hardening. She quickly shifted her aim and pulled the trigger, Dean grunting loudly from pain as he crumpled to the floor, coming to kneel on his knees, upper leg shooting pain through his nerves. He looked down and saw a bullet wound, deep red blood spilling around it.

“Oh you  _ bitch! _ ” he snarled, “I’ll make sure you die nice and slow, right after your little boyfriend here, huh?” Hannah left a lingering touch on Cas’ face for comfort before standing, stepping forward and pressing the barrel of the gun to Dean’s forehead, ready to kill executioner-style. Dean laughed in the face of death. “Do it for him, right?” Cas chuckled.

“She’s my sister, not my damn girlfriend, idiot.” Dean looked up at Hannah, who was clearly blushing. He rose an eyebrow at her and she glanced away.

“Castiel? What should I do?” She looked to him for guidance. Dean could easily tell what was going on. Castiel propped himself on his hand and looked up at her, right in the eye.

“Call Lucifer and Balthazar in. They’ll take care of me. You treat his wounds and ask Michael to keep watch. Then bring him to the upgrades.” Cas laid his head back down and sighed. “You’re one troublesome son of a bitch, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Known for it, Cas.” Cas smiled.

“Hannah… Put him to bed.”

And for Dean, everything went black.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Join us?” Hannah asked, sounding nearly disgusted at the idea. She placed a brace on his nose and stepped back, pulling off her gloves angrily. “You want- you want that psycho, that demon, to join us?”

“Dammit, Hannah, it’s just a nose,” Castiel grit out, pulling out his bottle of drugs and popping a few into his mouth as Hannah gently shifted his nose around with white plastic gloved hands.

“He damaged it. If it isn’t fixed you could have trouble breathing for the rest of your life.” Cas groaned from annoyance. It seemed like every other hour he was in the infirmary ever since their guests had come along.

“And Dean?” he questioned, pain stemming from his nose as Hannah put it into place.

“You seem to have a small obsession with him,” Hannah joked, chuckling. “And he seems to like hurting you.” At that her small smile turned to a frown. “I should’ve smote him right then and there.”

“No, Hannah,” Castiel said with a shake of his head, to which Hannah gave him that motherly stern look and he stopped moving. “We can’t. That would start a war. I want them to join us.”

“Join us?” Hannah asked, sounding nearly disgusted at the idea. She placed a brace on his nose and stepped back, pulling off her gloves angrily. “You want- you want that psycho, that  _ demon _ , to join us?” Castiel sat up in his chair and nodded, rubbing his head.

“Yeah. He’s smart, we could use him.”

“We should feed him to his own kind,” Hannah said under her breath, packing away her things before sighing. She bent down to Castiel’s legs and lifted the bloodied pant leg of his slacks, revealing the crusted and dried blood surrounding the torn stitches. “If you keep him here he’ll end up making you more bandages than skin.” She quickly fixed them and Castiel stayed quiet, considering her statement. She rose to her feet and stared him in the eye, blue reflecting blue. “I care for your safety.” Castiel got up with a small groan and grabbed for his crutches. Hannah handed them to him and he stood, taking out a cigarette. He was about to reach into his pocket for the lighter when she took his wrist. “Castiel.”

“I know,” he said, brushing her concern away, her hold on his wrist loosening and breaking. He began clacking away and off, wondering why he needed crutches. He supposed it was Hannah being Hannah again. He got a chance to light his cigarette, breathing out smoke. “We need the manpower, Hannah. And I need to… Relax. I need time away but I need to be here. You know I need to be here for everyone, you… Claire.” He glanced to his niece’s room as they passed, hearing loud music blasting behind the door. They were heading to the upgrades, which Hannah knew Castiel had been referring to the guest bedrooms. Everyone knew that, when he said the upgrades, it meant securing them inside one. He was stopped by Michael, who exchanged a nod with Hannah. Castiel glanced from one to the other, confused. “Michael, you’re supposed to be at your post.”

“Hannah requested I escort you whenever it applies to these ‘Hunters’,” he said simply, holding his large gun in hand.

“It’s for the best, Castiel,” Hannah informed him quietly, patting his shoulder, “it’s for the best. We all want to make sure you survive this apocalypse.” Castiel sighed in defeat.

“Who’s guarding Dean?” he asked, taking out his cigarette and puffing out a breath. He was about to put it out, going for a new spot on his wrist, when Hannah held out her hand. He rolled his eyes and she took it, carefully disposing of it.

“Anna. Gabriel is with Sam, Balthazar and the others with their group all assembled in their joint-room.” While Sam and Dean were in a single double-bed room, the others had been packed into a room filled with bunk beds. They’d get their own singles if they cooperated, Castiel had decided. However, it seemed as if Dean would be the only one not to do so, which Castiel didn’t appreciate. He grit his teeth, nodding.

“Michael, I’m going to go talk to the brothers. You can stay with me. And Hannah.” He turned to her and she listened intently. “You’ve always been such a good motherly figure. Please go stay with Claire.” She nodded with a sense of duty and went along her way, Castiel motioning to Michael before they began to go pay a visit to Sam and Dean.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Woah woah woah!” He looked from one to the other. “We don’t gotta add any more holes into each other’s bodies, okay? Let’s just talk. C’mon, we’re all survivors here, aren’t we?” Cas rose an eyebrow casually before pocketing his gun and taking a few of his pills.

“Agh!” Dean bit down on the belt tucked between his teeth as shards of the bullet were removed from his leg. “Son of a bitch- motherf- shit!” He’d been through some tough times before but this was one of the hardest he’d had to go through, the flesh of his leg still tender from the wound.

“So Castiel shot you?” Anna asked, dabbing at the wound with a bandage as blood flowed, now not as much.

“It was his damn bitch of a sister,” Dean ground out, “‘bout to kill him, too, when she ran in.”

“Dean!” Sam sat beside him on the bed, Dean scowling at him. He had earlier noticed the fact that, while Dean was tied to the end of the bed on the bedpost, closest to the door, Sam had no restraints. Apparently, none of the others had either, since they’d visited him not too long before.

“Yeah, well, I was lucky she only knocked me out with her gun. When he said she was gonna put me to sleep, well…” He snapped his fingers. “Thought I was done for.” Anna applied cotton balls and bandages, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.

“You can’t put pressure on that leg for a while. You should get crutches. Honestly, you’re lucky it didn’t hit anywhere major.” She chuckled, glancing to her own. “I would know, got one myself.” He laughed and gave his best flirty smile, finding the girl pretty - and much more tolerable than both Cas and Hannah.

“So, Anna,” he said smoothly, “d’ya mind undoing these ropes?” He tugged on the ones keeping him to the bed. “They’re pretty annoying, and kinda chafe.” Anna chuckled and shook her head.

“No can do, Dean. Boss’ orders.” She turned away and was about to leave the room. Dean felt anger bubble up in his chest.

“Your boss is a jackass.” She leaned on the doorframe and glanced at the brothers from over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I know.” She left, the pair left in silence. Dean looked down at Sam’s bandaged arms, the cuts Cas had delivered healing up.

“He just wanted to make a deal, y’know,” Sam pointed out quietly, “You could’ve avoided all this.”

“Like I’d ever agree to do something with that asshole,” Dean snapped. Sam sighed, clasping his hands in his lap and looking down.

“I talked to everyone else. They say we should take the deal.” He looked back up to his brother, who was unconvinced. “We’d have food, water, a home… We wouldn’t have as much work to do, either. We could rely on each other.” Dean scoffed, disappointed.

“Haven’t you seen what he’s done to us, Sammy? He chained us up in a damn torture chamber and carved into you like you were a damn Thanksgiving dinner, and he was ready to turn me into swiss cheese! Are you _ kidding  _ me?!” Sam sat back on the bunk, leaning against the wall when he went back far enough.

“Look, I’m just saying, consider everyone else’s opinion. If they let us go I doubt we’ll be given even half of our stuff back. Besides, the rest of ‘em seem nice. Just make up with Cas and we’ll be fine, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean sneered, “right. Make up with the guy who almost killed my family.” Sam shook his head, closing his eyes.

“I can’t get anywhere with you. You’re hopeless, y’know that?”

“I gotta be, Sammy.” They were quiet until there was the clicking of crutches coming down the hall. In the doorframe came to stand the dark-haired man, Michael behind him.

“Are you both liking the accommodations?” he asked with a smirk, “I can see the others are. They’re being treated to breakfast.” Cas only received a green-eyed glare and the younger brother’s lack of speech as a response. He hoisted himself inside and sat on a chair, Michael standing watch by the door. “Are you hungry? Today’s special’s been cooked by your friend… Bobby, right?”

“Shut your trap before I rip your damn jaw off,” Dean grumbled, wishing he’d killed Cas when he had the chance. “I don’t wanna listen to your shit.”

“I could always put a bullet in your head,” Cas said with a shrug, Sam’s eyes snapping open.

“Wait, Cas-”

“Then do it,” Dean goaded, leaning forward and pulling against the restraints, teeth clenched, “Do it!” Cas whipped a gun from his pocket and pulled back the hammer, Sam shooting out of his seat and coming to stand between them, arms out.

“Woah woah woah!” He looked from one to the other. “We don’t gotta add any more holes into each other’s bodies, okay? Let’s just talk. C’mon, we’re all survivors here, aren’t we?” Cas rose an eyebrow casually before pocketing his gun and taking a few of his pills.

“I guess you're right,” Cas agreed, “but your brother here doesn’t seem to think the same.”

“Because you're treating us more like wild animals than people!” Cas chuckled.

“I’m treating  _ you _ like a wild animal, Dean, everyone else seems to have logic.”

“Have logic?!” Dean was outraged. They’d betrayed him for this guy. “Logic to stay with a guy who nearly killed me!”

“I could say the same!” Cas’ hand began to move toward his coat, Sam sighing.

“Shut up!” He got glares from the rivals, who only seemed be interested in their argument and attempting to kill each other than in a truce. Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm himself. “Now, Cas, Dean-”

“What?!” the growled in unison. Sam got a small laugh out of that. For two people so different they seemed to have much in common. The pair then glared at each other, eyes silently fighting for dominance.

“Let’s talk about the deal. No weapons, no hurting each other. Just… Talk.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well,” he said, motioning to his hands, “you can trust me about that part. What about him?” Cas shifted in the chair to sit more comfortably as he took out his gun and unloaded it bullet by bullet, letting them clatter to the ground one by one. He then took out his pocketknife and tossed it to Sam, who caught it and was only partially fazed by the fact that it still had his blood on it.

“That’s better.” He put the pocketknife in his pocket and sat down again, beside Dean and close enough to interfere if need be.

“You’re treating us like children,” Cas muttered, pulling out his pack of Marlboros.

“You’re acting like one.” Cas paused when he was about to light yet another cigarette - he must’ve had much more than he was letting on, considering that by this point he should have had more than a pack - and pulled away from the lit flame, putting down the cig and raising his eyebrows.

“Come again?” he threatened, moving his wrist slightly and making the flame sway. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Cas, c’mon. Let’s not fight or threaten each other.” Dean grit his teeth.

“I don’t wanna friggin’ talk. I heard the deal. I’m not taking it.” And Cas only shrugged, standing and collecting his things before leaving the room.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voice after voice with their own things to talk about in one jumble of annoyances swirled in Dean’s head as he sat in his room, unable to move and do anything to stop them from chewing his ear off. “Holy crap, shut the hell up!” Everyone went silent and he wished he could play Russian Roulette for a moment, only to stop them from their incessant insistence. He pressed his forehead to the pole and shook his head. “Idiots,” he muttered, “I’m surrounded by damn idiots.”

“But we  _ have _ to take the deal!”

“He’ll probably kill us if we don’t.”

“We’ll have everything we could ever ask for in this damn apocalypse!”

Voice after voice with their own things to talk about in one jumble of annoyances swirled in Dean’s head as he sat in his room, unable to move and do anything to stop them from chewing his ear off. “Holy crap, shut the hell up!” Everyone went silent and he wished he could play Russian Roulette for a moment, only to stop them from their incessant insistence. He pressed his forehead to the pole and shook his head. “Idiots,” he muttered, “I’m surrounded by damn idiots.” He sighed, banging his head against the pole a few times to clear his thoughts. He sat up again and nodded. “That’s better. Somebody get me some whiskey.”

“Uh,” Jo began, seemingly just as irritated as he was, “we can’t get you any booze right now, since we have to make a  _ gigantic decision _ !”

“Ya idjit, you have to take the damn deal or we’ll all be as good as dead,” Bobby said, adding to the amount of times someone said that already.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Dean grumbled, exasperated and thoroughly angry. “I don’t like him. He’s dangerous and I don’t doubt he’ll kill us the first second he gets and take everything.”

“He seems sincere,” Jody added.

“He nearly broke down crying when he was talking about how he’d do the same for his family,” Charlie chimed in, “Poor guy, he lost a lot of his family when this all started. Hasn’t had a second to relax.”

“Turned to drugs and booze,” Ellen clarified. “And lost his brother.”

“Put us in his shoes,” Sam said with a nod, “We’d both be like him without each other.” Dean felt fury raging inside him, wrestling with his thoughts.

“We can’t trust the guy just because he tells a sob story,” Dean growled, “Hell, he may have not had a twin in the first place!”

“But don’t you remember Claire?” Pamela asked, crossing her arms, “His brother’s daughter. She’s real.”

“Well,” Jody declared, “I’m taking the deal.”

“Like hell you are!” Jody turned to Dean, hands fists.

“You have no right to tell me what to do, Dean,” she said cooly, yet her body language revealed otherwise, “You may be the leader but I am a full-grown woman who can do what she wants.” She paused in the doorframe. “Anyone else agree?”

“I do,” Jo confirmed, “I’m going with you.”

One by one Dean watched as they all came to the same conclusion as each other; they should take the deal and hope for the best. Dean felt betrayed and knew his stance was crumbling as they left the room to go talk to Cas. Finally, Sam was the only one left. Sam sighed. “I’m going with them,” he murmured, “You need to think about this.” And then Dean was left, completely and utterly alone.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And if Dean doesn’t agree?” Charlie wondered aloud. Castiel nodded solemnly.
> 
> “I will keep him restrained safely in a private room. I will provide him with the means to live securely, but he will be guarded at all times. And, if I still would require a second by that time, I would like the person by my side to be Sam. Any objections?”

“Are you hungry?” Castiel sat at the head of a large table, everyone around it. He rose an eyebrow at Dean’s defective group, pulling out a cigarette. “If you’re hungry I can have someone make something.”

“We’re fine, Cas,” Sam assured with a nod. “We want to discuss the truce.” Castiel let the cigarette hang from his lip, leaning forward in his chair and placing his clasped hands on the table. His eyes peered at everyone in their seats.

“And Dean? Is he… privy to this information?” They shook their heads.

“He’s convinced you’re gonna kill us,” Ellen informed him. Castiel chuckled, taking a drag and letting out smoke.

“No. Look, how about I have my family escort you to your new rooms and I’ll go speak to him?” Sam looked to everyone, who all shook their heads once more.

“Not you. It has to be someone he could trust. Someone’s he’s interacted with.” Castiel nodded. 

“I’ll send in Anna. The one who was bandaging him up. She told me he might have an interest in her. A ladies man, I understand.”

“Totally,” Jo agreed with a small smile. Sam bit his lip in questioning.

“So we’re good?”

“As long as you follow the terms of our, well, covenant.” He laughed a little. “A covenant with the Angels.”

“And what’re the terms?” Bobby questioned.

“You all pitch in,” Castiel started, “and do your share. You must also split your supplies evenly among everyone.” He took another drag, thinking. “You have to promise not to hurt my men and I won’t hurt you all. I don’t attack unless I feel threatened.” He paused. “Now, this is a democracy, but until further notice I would like you to recognize me as our leader. And, possibly, Dean. That is, if he agrees. At times I will need to step down and do something outside of our day-to-day chores, so I will need someone to lead alongside me.”

“And if Dean doesn’t agree?” Charlie wondered aloud. Castiel nodded solemnly.

“I will keep him restrained safely in a private room. I will provide him with the means to live securely, but he will be guarded at all times. And, if I still would require a second by that time, I would like the person by my side to be Sam. Any objections?”

Everyone was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short, LOL. It's just I wanted to add some THD politics into this biz. I sounded really stupid right then didn't I? Oh well. Happy after Thanksgiving!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Have you eaten?” Claire chuckled sarcastically.
> 
> “Of course I have, you just haven’t seen it because of your drug-induced sleep.” Castiel wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have an argument.

After a long nap - Castiel had no clue what time it was any more, considering everything that had gone down in about two days - he took his crutches and went down the hallway, now wearing a new coat, shirt, and pair of pants. He hadn’t heard a peep from anyone about the deal nor their living quarters and took it as a good sign and, if he remembered correctly, he could’ve sworn he heard conversation and the clinking of silverware a few hours before. He smiled softly to himself and closed his eyes, sighing. All was going pretty well, despite Dean’s lack of cooperation.

He decided to take his mind off that, finding no one else was around; he guessed Michael had sent them out on missions. He looked up at the ceiling and heard the faint moans of the Demons, knowing they had to get back to work sometime soon. They had more mouths to feed and more people, which no doubt meant more Demons. With a slightly shaking hand he took out his pill bottle, taking a tablet. He needed this time to get his mind off things.

He stopped in front of the room where he heard female giggling and laughing. “No way!”

“Yes, it happened, your father once broke Castiel’s arm!” Claire howled with laughter.

“Good job, Dad!” Castiel sighed again gently, remembering his brother. His older twin had always been so kind hearted and nice, but that day Castiel had accidentally crashed his bike and, well, it just escalated from there. To be honest, Castiel and Jimmy changed once all of this had started. Castiel turned to drugs and drinking to take his mind off the pain while Jimmy had worked day and night to ensure the safety of his daughter. Now that Jimmy was gone, Castiel had promised himself and Jimmy he’d take care of her… But that wasn’t working out too well. She didn’t want his help and Castiel couldn’t help her. Frankly, it was a lost cause.

That was what made him pause when he went to knock on the door. He wanted to know how Claire was doing, if she was okay. All of this must’ve been taking a toll on her. He was about to knock when the door opened, Claire’s smile falling at the sight of him. “What do you want?” she asked flatly. Castiel rubbed the back of his neck.

“I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Have you eaten?” Claire chuckled sarcastically.

“Of course I have, you just haven’t seen it because of your drug-induced sleep.” Castiel wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have an argument.

“I was just-”

“I know, I know,” Claire said, rolling her eyes. She adopted a deep, mocking tone to continue with, “‘I was just trying to be the Dad you lost, blah blah blah, I’m gonna smoke and take a few pills, blah blah blah.” She glared at him before pushing her way past the door and leaving. Castiel looked down to the floor, somewhat nervously.

“Castiel.” He glanced up to see Hannah sitting on the foot of Claire’s pink bed. Castiel had gotten those sheets for her soon after Jimmy passed away, the old ones having faded. She said it got rid of the nostalgia. He stared down at the floor and began clicking away. Hannah came to follow him and looked to Castiel. “I’m sorry for that. I should’ve gone and-”

“It’s fine,” Castiel muttered. “How’s everyone?” Hannah swallowed and rose her hand before lowering it.

“We had dinner not too long ago. Everyone was happy, talking, laughing. Even the ones from the Hunters’ group. Dean, however…”

“Still uncooperating?” Castiel asked.

“Yes.” He chuckled.

“I expected no less. Anything else?” Hannah giggled a little.

“Gabriel and Sam have been spending time together. Conversations, playful banter. I think they may be bonding. New relationships, hm?” Castiel nodded. “Look, Castiel, I have something to get off my chest.” He peeked at her out of the corner of his eye, Hannah about to say something when they saw someone at the end of the hallway, arms crossed.

“Hey, Cas.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you do anything, I’ll kill you. Then your sister, then your niece-” Cas stepped forward, teeth clenched.
> 
> “Don’t you dare threaten her! I’ll kill you if you dare lay a hair on her!”

“So did you take the damn deal or not?” Dean rose an eyebrow at Cas, keeping his arms crossed as best he could while wearing a crutch. Anna stood beside him, Dean chuckling mischievously. He knew he was going to get to know Anna very intimately very,  _ very _ soon, seeing as how they’d already had a quick make-out session while he had been untied. With Hannah glued to Cas’ side, it seemed like a perfect double-date.

“Yeah, I did,” Dean said with a nod, “Hope you keep your word. Do anything to hurt my family-”

“I won’t,” Cas repeated. Dean rolled his eyes.

“ _ If _ you do anything, I’ll kill you. Then your sister, then your niece-” Cas stepped forward, teeth clenched.

“Don’t you dare threaten her! I’ll kill you if you dare lay a hair on her!” Hannah pulled Cas back with a gentle touch and Cas wrenched away from her. “Not now,” he muttered.

“I won’t touch Claire,” Dean stated, bored. “Seems like a nice girl.” Cas huffed out a breath and looked to the floor. “So I’m co-leader, right?”

“Yeah,” Cas said with a nod, “We need to talk.” He glanced to Hannah, who gave him a kind and warm-hearted look. Cas turned to go, beckoning Dean over. Dean followed the pair down the hall and Anna gave him a peck on the cheek, Dean laughing quietly.

“So they’re siblings, right?” he whispered. Anna nodded.

“We all are. A few of us - including me - are his cousins. The blood-related ones who’re Chuck’s kids are Hannah, Cas, and Gabe.” Dean chuckled again, shaking his head.

“Interesting, sweetheart. But really… I wanna know about you.” Anna giggled and they soon got to the main room, where Cas sat down with Hannah going off to do something and Dean taking his place across from him. Dean watched intently as Hannah quickly came in with a pot of coffee, pouring Cas’ first.

“I know how you like it,” she said with a smile, putting in some sugar. Dean wore a smirk, Cas seemingly blind as to what was going on. It was clear to him, at least.

“Thanks,” Cas said with a small nod, taking a sip. He glanced up to Dean, setting down his mug. “How do you like it?”

“Black, angel.” Cas quirked up an eyebrow at that and chuckled, Anna kicking his leg under the table. Dean smiled and wrapped his leg around hers, Anna rolling her eyes yet laughing. Hannah poured him a cup, Dean rubbing his wrists from the rope and looking around. “Got any whiskey?”

“Yeah,” Cas responded casually, “some vodka, absinthe, beer…”

“Just whiskey.” Hannah helped Cas up as he went off to go get it, Hannah taking a seat. “So,” Dean began, looking the woman up and down. She was fairly beautiful but didn’t seem like Dean’s type. “You two close?”

“Yes,” Hannah answered, “Very close. I’m more like a mother to him than a sister, at times.” Dean laughed a little more.

“Yeah, same with me and my brother.” Of course, it wasn’t completely the same. Hannah and Cas seemed… closer than that. Cas soon returned with a bottle of whiskey, placing it on the table along with two glasses.

“Whiskey man?” Cas asked as Dean poured himself a glass. Cas had another sip of his coffee. “More of an absinthe guy myself, when the time’s right.”

“I go for anything,” Dean said nonchalantly, preferring this kind of laid-back conversation as opposed to their violent arguments. “If we find it, I even drink moonshine.”

“Moonshine,” Cas repeated with another chuckle. He smiled, though this time it didn’t look as bizarre and out-of-place as before. “Do you need anything applied to your wrists?” he inquired, noticing the marks left behind by the rope.

“Nah, I’m good.” Dean easily drank a first glass of whiskey and quickly downed another, feeling casual for once since the damn apocalypse began. “Just ready to ice some Croats.”

“Croats?” Cas gave him a questioning expression. Dean suddenly remembered that this guy didn’t know what it meant.

“Croats. Y’know, the zombies.”

“Ah,” Cas said, as if having an epiphany, leaning back in his chair, “We call them Demons. You know, while we’re named after angels, they’re the enemy. So naturally, they’re Demons.” Dean shrugged.

“If we’re gonna be working together we’ll need a new name for them.” Cas laughed.

“So we’re working together now?”

“Cautiously.” Dean gave a deadpan stare. “I still hate you.”

“For now,” Cas said with a grin, “Everyone comes around.”

“Not everyone.” Cas snapped his fingers, sitting up.

“Walkers.” Dean furrowed his brow.

“Walkers?”

“Yeah.” Cas nodded, holding out his hand to shake. “Working together to take out the walkers.” Dean was hesitant for a moment, then reaching out and taking Castiel’s hand in his, sealing their deal.

“Saving people. Hunting walkers. The survivors’ business.”


	20. Chapter 20

“We need to fix the roof.” Sam made the obvious observation as he slung a gun over his shoulder and looked up at the decaying ceiling, starting to cave in on itself. “Or add metal braces. That would help.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Sam glanced to Dean, who stood beside him, cleaning his machete covered in blood with his shirt, holstering it. He pointed up at one section of the roof that had peeled away, letting in light. “See, up there we could put a metal panel and keep it up. Maybe use boards again, replace the roof altogether.” Dean, in turn, looked toward Cas. “What d'ya say, Cas?”

“Sure. Sounds great.”

It had been a few days, maybe a week, since the treaty had been ‘signed’. Everyone was absolutely thriving, having enough supplies to last them years - food and water weren’t even necessary to collect anymore. Dean and Cas weren’t too hostile but, still, Sam could catch Dean’s hand nearing his gun when Cas stepped too close to him with a weapon in his grasp. Sam would shoot Dean a look and his hand would always retreat. Now without crutches, they both could go on missions. Despite their apparent dislike of each other, they worked together well. Cas pulled out a cigarette and lit it, offering the pack. The brothers shook their heads, Cas shrugging before putting it back into his coat.

“We can take care of it,” Dean went on, “me and Sammy, you and Gabe. We’ll knock it out in, what?” Dean glanced to his watch, nodding in approval. “An hour, if we work fast.”

“I’ll get Balthazar, Chuck and Lucifer to do a perimeter check.” Cas began to leave, coat swaying behind him as he went to go down to the bunker when Dean chuckled.

“Better bring Anna, too.” Dean gave Sam a sly wink, Sam immediately understanding the message. Dean and Anna had done it in both their rooms once or twice, making it clear to the younger Winchester that he was in a relationship. Cas rolled his eyes and went downstairs, his footsteps echoing up into the barn.

Not too long after Sam and Dean were climbing up a ladder to the roof, the three men patrolling the perimeter of the barn with their guns and gear. Dean came to be between Anna and Cas, holding nails in his mouth and a hammer in his hand, Sam and Cas a few boards. Gabe ended up on the far right, him and Sam striking up a conversation.

The whole time while they were working, Cas would continue peeking at Dean as he flirted shamelessly with Anna. Anna’s hair blocked her face from view and Dean smiled his charming grin, Anna laughing. Cas rolled his eyes and Sam could sense something between the two leaders, something new. It was too soon for that, he reasoned with a large smile. He looked back to Gabe, who was pretending to use a lollipop as a hammer and a toothpick as a nail, the pair bursting out in laughter. Gabe winked at him and Sam chuckled, shaking his head. He wasn’t the only one without a newfound ‘friend’.

“Mm,” Dean thought, his small word muffled by the nails. He pulled one out and started banging the hammer against it, working diligently. “So, Cas,” he tried again, “what’s for dinner?” Cas looked over to him for a moment before back to his task.

“Don’t know. Your friends are making.” He took a pill or two, mulling over it. “If I recall correctly, everyone’s cooking tonight. A grand feast, I guess. In celebration.” Dean chuckled.

“Been too long since I’ve had a kind of dinner like that.”

“Yeah, well, it is the apocalypse, after all,” Cas said under his breath.

They all weren’t up there for too long before everything was fixed, being called to dinner soon after. They each climbed down, Dean holding out his arms and Anna jumping the last few steps down to him. She laughed and he spun her around, and Sam could see Cas nearly shooting daggers. Castiel only scoffed and went off to do what he had to, the group going down for dinner.

That night everyone ate happily, different kinds of food laid out for them; pasta, salad, steak, burgers, burritos, everything they could spare on such an occasion. “So, I was thinking we could put up a fence around the barn,” Gabriel spontaneously suggested, “to keep out the Demons.” Everybody laughed at that, including him. “Sorry, walkers.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Balthazar said with a nod.

“It’ll keep them away,” Samandriel added, “if we put barbed wire we could kill them through the fence.”

“And we can make a farm,” Ellen chimed in, “get fresh fruit and vegetables before winter hits.”

“What d'ya say?” Bobby looked to Dean and Cas, expectant. They exchanged a glance and communicated silently through their eyes. They nodded once, then turning back to everyone.

“Let’s get started,” Dean approved. Cas chuckled.

“Maybe our lives can get better from here. Let’s toast!” Everybody held up their glasses.

“To a forever-lasting truce!” Lucifer cheered.

“To a better future,” Claire said.

“To new relationships,” Hannah murmured, looking toward Cas and his happy smile.

Cas laughed. “This is going to be so much fun.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What started off as gigantic tree branches stuffed in the dirt turned into a large fence with small holes in it to shove any kind of sharp weapon into the gathered walkers’ heads. Instead of being on patrol every day, they could grab their cars and go out looking for refugees or supplies, especially since they made their own gate. Those who stayed behind cleaned up or prepared food, everyone having a life as normal as it could get.
> 
> For a while.

It wasn’t too long before the fence was built.

What started off as gigantic tree branches stuffed in the dirt turned into a large fence with small holes in it to shove any kind of sharp weapon into the gathered walkers’ heads. Instead of being on patrol every day, they could grab their cars and go out looking for refugees or supplies, especially since they made their own gate. Those who stayed behind cleaned up or prepared food, everyone having a life as normal as it could get.

For a while.

It was an unremarkable Monday when everything happened. The faint groans and rasps from the undead could be heard from upstairs.

Claire sat up in bed, distracted by the noise. She tossed the book she had been reading aside, getting out of bed and going to Dean’s room.

She could’ve asked her Uncle for help, but she didn’t want to. She never really wanted to talk to him, considering what he took from her. She felt that Cas should’ve died instead of her father. At least then she wouldn’t be an orphan.

She came to the door and knocked on it, Dean answering a moment later. “Hey, Claire.” He leaned against the doorframe, wearing casual yet battle-ready attire. “What’s up?”

“The walkers are getting too loud,” she informed him, flipping her hair to the side. She could always count on the co-leader for help. She could only assume that, if she had asked Cas for assistance, she’d find him surrounded by pill bottles, booze, cigarettes or all three.

“Okay, I’ll get a group rounded up. You wanna come?” Claire laughed. Dean always seemed to know of Claire’s liking for hunting the monsters. Where Cas didn’t approve, Dean did. It was like they were parents to her… At that thought she scowled. She didn’t want Cas in her life.

“Yeah, sure.” Not too long later they’d gotten a small group put together, made of Michael, Samandriel, Anna, Dean and Claire. It wasn’t much but the others were pretty busy. Claire was handed a crowbar and she happily went upstairs and to the fences, where sure enough a cluster had gathered. That had been happening increasingly often lately, but they’d put up supports a while back. Positioning her crowbar in front of the forehead of a zombie trying to reach through the fence, she thrust the weapon forward and it pierced the walker’s skull, killing it. She removed the crowbar and did this repeatedly with a smile on her face, everyone else doing the same with determined looks in their eyes.

After a few hours of this, there was still a formidable amount of walkers that had gathered. Claire furrowed her brow, confused. They’d killed about twenty to thirty each, but they were still coming in droves. “Crap,” Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair and no doubt smearing blood on it, “We need more man-power. Claire, run down and grab Cas and the others, would’ya?” Claire nodded and relinquished her crowbar, beginning to head toward the barn. She passed by the small farm they called their own and smiled. Everything seemed perfect.

“Holy shit! Claire, _run!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of act one!!! After a holiday hiatus I'll be back to posting this!!!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Son of a bitch! Claire, guys, go down, I’ll hold ‘em off!”
> 
> “We’re not leaving you!”

“Holy shit! Claire, _run!_ ” Dean watched in horror as the zombies began to push the fence down with the force of their desire for food. Along with the others, they tried to keep the wall up. Dean looked around for anything to use, remembering his dagger. He glanced back to Claire and saw her frozen. “Go, Claire, now!” She glanced around and dashed toward them, grabbing her crowbar. As Dean struggled to push the wall back up, his feet slipping on the dirt, he took out his knife and began stabbing the zombies through their heads. Despite killing as many as he could in as little time as he could manage, more walkers replaced the slaughtered ones by the dozens. “Claire, go!”

“I’m not leaving!” She stabbed one in the head and tried with all her strength to kill them. Dean looked to the others, who were working as hard as they were able to to keep the fence up. Dean knew hope was lost. The walkers were winning. The wooden supports were snapping in the middle and Dean grit his teeth.

“Everybody, run! Get to the bunker!” He pulled the machine gun over his shoulder and everyone stepped back, pulling out their guns. “I’ll cover you!” Everybody stepped back and pulled out their guns, shooting at them. Dean went to town, alternating between precise shots to rapid fire massacres of about ten to fifteen walkers at a time. The others were doing the same, shooting at them as much as they were able. The walkers didn’t let up, continuing to go at them as they ran back. They got to the barn and ran inside, holding the doors shut. “Son of a bitch! Claire, guys, go down, I’ll hold ‘em off!”

“We’re not leaving you!” Chuck shouted.

“I’ll be down there soon, just go, get somewhere safe!” He ripped the strap off his gun and tied it around the doorknobs. “Go, quickly!” They ran down, Dean going backwards and shooting the walkers he could find peeking between the doors. He gave one last shot before closing the hatch and racing downstairs, everyone already assembled in a panic. Cas rushed over to him, blue irises expressing his concern.

“Are you all okay? What happened?”

“The walkers,” Dean breathed, exhausted from running despite his stamina, “they tore down the fence. We have to lock this place down.” Cas’ eyes grew wide.

“Shit.”

“What?” Dean asked, everyone’s fear mounting as they spoke hurriedly.

“There’s a back entrance. If the gates are down they’ll be able to open it if it isn’t locked.” He turned to everyone. “Hey!” He got their attention within a minute. “Who was the last person who went out the back door?”

“Me,” Anna spoke up, “I was.”

“Did you remember to lock it?” Dean questioned, hoping she did. She froze.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah!!!!! Act 2 - or part 2, whatever you want to call it - officially commences!!! I'm so excited!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Castiel, you’re in no condition to go elsewhere,” Hannah said, going up to him and taking his hand carefully, still trembling against hers, “You need to stay here.”

“Shit!” Castiel punched the wall, not caring that it hurt his fist. He fumbled around for a cigarette, finding his pack empty. He threw it across the room in anger, it landing nearby Hannah’s feet. She glanced down at it before back up at Castiel, who was clearly shaking. Castiel had never looked so vulnerable. “We have to go lock it, quick. I’ll go. Dean…” He looked at him. “You stay here and keep everyone safe.”

“Castiel, you’re in no condition to go elsewhere,” Hannah said, going up to him and taking his hand carefully, still trembling against hers, “You need to stay here.”

“Then I’ll go with him,” Dean said with a nod, “Who’ll come and help us?”

“I will,” Samandriel piped up.

“I will too,” Hannah declared. Castiel was about to speak in protest when she shook her head at him. “I need to make sure you’re okay.” He sighed.

“Fine,” he mumbled. “Who else?”

“I will,” Sam added.

“Me too,” Claire chimed in.

“No!” Both Dean and Cas managed to say that at the same time, looking to each other for a moment. “Sammy, you stay here,” Dean ordered.

“Claire, do not move from this room!” Castiel commanded. Neither of them wanted their family hurt, especially the ones that mattered most to them. Claire crossed her arms, giving them a blatantly angered stare, while Sam huffed out a breath.

“I’m coming, Dean,” he insisted firmly, “You need as many as you can get.”

“No,” Dean argued, “We need someone to stay behind and care for the others. Just in case we don’t make it or we need to leave, everybody will need supplies.”

“I’m going, Castiel!” Claire shouted, “You can’t stop me!”

“Would your father have wanted you to?” Castiel asked.

“It doesn’t matter!” Tears were budding at the edges of her eyes. “He’s gone, and you can’t replace him!” She reached for her gun when Lucifer took her arm.

“Claire, stop,” he said quietly, “You need to stay here.” Her teeth were clenched as tears began to fall down her face.

“Castiel, I hope you die! I hope you get bitten and die!” she yelled, running off. Castiel became paralyzed. He’d never heard her say that out loud before. His eyes searched around the room for nothing. Dean sighed before snapping his fingers in front of Castiel’s face, helping him out of his trance.

“Cas, we gotta go, and fast.” Castiel nodded, closing his eyes.

“I’ll come too,” Jo said.

“Only if I go with you,” Ellen said with a tone that told her there was no arguing about it.

“Good,” Dean said, “we have a group. Grab your guns and go.” As those going with him and Castiel rushed to grab weapons and arm themselves, Castiel pointed to the others.

“Split into three groups; water, food, and other. Get everything you can carry in backpacks and duffels. Get going, now!” Everyone looked up when, from the barn, they could hear banging against the door. “Go!” Gabe and Sam were talking quietly.

“Sam, I’m going,” Gabe told him, “I’m gonna help Cassie and I’ll come back for you.”

“Don’t die, okay?” They hugged each other, Sam almost having to hoist Gabriel up due to his height. They pulled away, the two parting with a lingering look.

Dean and Castiel made sure everyone had a blade and a few guns. Castiel felt his stomach turn as they all made their way down hallway after hallway. His nerves were taking over, which usually happened when he wasn’t relaxed. He was hoping to whatever higher power that was still looking out for them - if there even was one - someone would get his drugs from the drug storage marked _Castiel_. They all had their own drugs for their own reasons, and he wished someone would make sure to get his. And his cigarettes. And his alcohol. He doubted his aim would be right without them.

They soon came upon the sound of rasping and moaning, each ducking behind a wall. Dean peeked past it and Castiel noticed something moving. Dean held up three fingers, Castiel at first misinterpreting it as three and mouthing, _‘Three walkers?’_ Dean shook his head.

‘ _Walker. W is for walker_ . _’_ Castiel rolled his eyes. Now wasn’t the time for him to review his alphabet. He already knew the apocalypse version; A is for apocalypse, B is for burn, C is for corpse… He scoffed quietly at himself. _‘I’ll go,’_ he caught Dean silently saying with quick movements of what Castiel could only describe as beautiful lips. Castiel nodded and Dean aimed past the wall and shot, the bullet shooting through the air with the lack of a bang with help from Dean’s silencer. It hit the walker in the side of its forehead, it falling to the ground, dead. Everyone shot glares at Anna, except for Dean.

“What?” she whispered, confused.

“You left it open!” Gabe whisper-yelled.

“Leave her alone,” Dean defended, giving her a quick kiss. Castiel wondered how they’d somehow formed a relationship such as theirs in such a small amount of time. He pulled away, looking around at the others. “Now let’s go!”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shit,” Cas muttered. He sighed, eyes shut. “Let’s hope we’ll find him alive.”

They all ran down the hallways, killing any walkers they found - which, luckily for them, weren’t many. They carelessly stepped over the corpses and stayed in a pack like soldiers or wolves would. They were only a few hallways from the door when they saw more walkers.

“Okay, guys, there are four hallways leading to there. Everybody pair up and go down one, and be careful,” Dean whispered. Cas nodded.

“Jo, go with Gabe,” he started, pointing, “Dean-”

“I’ll go with Anna,” he said quickly, looking to her. Cas rolled his eyes.

“I’ll go with Hannah,” he stated, Dean trying to stifle a chuckle. Hannah’s cheeks became dusted with pink and she looked up at him, eyes innocently wide and incredulous. “And Ellen, go with Saman-” He paused, looking the group over. “Where’s Samandriel?” They each looked around at each other, collectively shaking their heads. “Shit,” Cas muttered. He sighed, eyes shut. “Let’s hope we’ll find him alive.”

“I know how dear he is to you,” Hannah said softly. Cas nodded and went over to her.

“Let’s get going. We’ll take the mid left hall.” He stopped for a second. “Ellen, you okay alone?” Ellen was about to speak when Hannah cut her off.

“I’ll go alone.” Dean saw clearly what Hannah was doing; displaying her bravery. Everybody nodded.

“Let’s go, now!” They split off into their groups, Dean watching as the others disappeared down hallways. Soon enough gunfire could be heard, Dean and Anna keeping their guns raised and ready to go. They came across a few walkers that rushed at them. Dean shot and killed the first, the second tripping over the fellow zombie’s body. He smirked and raised his foot, slamming it down with all his strength and breaking through the walker’s skull, killing it. He shook some stray brain matter from his shoe and scraped the sole along the floor, leaving behind a streak of red. Anna looked on with a face that could only described as half fear and half admiration, the third dead from her gunshot.

They came across another hallway, killing two walkers and each going on either side, looking past to it. “There,” Anna whispered, looking to the light filtering in, “There’s the door.” To Dean’s small dismay, the walkers were flooding inside it. He could see Ellen, Jo and Gabriel peering at the walkers from the hallway across.

“There’re the others.” A walker dropped when a bullet hit its head from the nearest hallway to Dean, him and Anna both knowing it was Cas.

That was when they saw walkers flood into the hallway without someone in it and heard rapid gunfire.

“Castiel!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late post!!!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nobody-” Three walkers fell. “Touches-” Now five. “Hannah Shurley!”

Hannah.

That was the first thought that came to Castiel’s mind. He knew that voice. He’d grown up with that voice. It was Hannah, calling out to him for help. Despite going against the plan, he raced away from his hallway and down hers, looking around. Near the end of it was a cluster of walkers and Hannah shooting randomly, afraid. She’d never encountered this many. Castiel had never let her.

“Hannah!” Hannah’s eyes widened and she ran to him, Castiel continuing to fire. She threw herself against his chest, sobbing and screaming. “I got you,” Castiel said soothingly yet while killing zombie after zombie, “C’mon, with me. Go down my hallway. Now.” He pushed her away and she stayed back for a moment. “Go!” Castiel held up his gun, teeth clenched and eyes shining in determination. “Nobody-” Three walkers fell. “Touches-” Now five. “Hannah Shurley!” The zombies continued to die and crumple to the ground, dead once and for all. She smiled, unbeknownst to Castiel, and ran off. “Everyone, move in!”

A bombardment of gunshots rang out and the thumps of bodies hitting the floor intensified as quickly as it began and ended at the same speed. Everyone was breathing heavily and they hesitantly stepped out of their hiding spots, but as soon as they did more rasping and moaning undead came through. Castiel pulled out his handgun and moved back, wanting to save ammo, but soon ran out. He was forced back and found everyone had done the same.

“There’re too many, run!” They all retreated as fast as they could, Castiel slamming a door open. “Go, inside!” They went inside, Castiel pulling the doors closed as fast as he could, the others finding a dirty room with an unmade bed, pill bottles and cans of beer strewn around, old clothes crumpled and stuffed into random corners and any available surface.

“Where are we?” Jo wondered, scrunching up her nose.

“My room,” Castiel said quietly, quickly going over to his drawer. He sifted through socks and underwear and triumphantly pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and having a drag. “Damn, this is much better.”

“Quit smoking and tell us what to do!” Anna said, clinging to Dean, “We’ll all die if we don’t do something!” Castiel nodded and knit his brow, thinking as he puffed out smoke. Suddenly an idea came to him and he rushed to his closet, pulling out his spare trench coats. Thankfully there were many.

“Put one on,” he muttered, “Everybody.” Castiel grabbed a backpack and started stuffing other coats and cigarette packs into it. They did as they were told despite having no idea where any of it was going.

“What now?” Ellen asked, perplexed. Castiel, filled with confidence in his plan and from the cig, went to the door. He opened it a crack and looked from side to side, seeing that no other walkers were that nearby. He grabbed onto the foot of a walker body and dragged it inside the room, blood pooling from its head creating smears on the floor.

“What the hell’re you doing?” Dean asked, thoroughly befuddled. “Cas, seriously.”

“Hush.” Castiel got to work, taking a knife from his pocket and shoving it into the zombie’s abdomen. He pulled it down and a disgusting smell of rotting flesh filled the room. Even though he felt like throwing up at the odor, he continued, ripping through skin and opening up decaying guts. Hannah put a hand to her mouth and began to gag. Castiel glanced around before grabbing gloves and pulling them on, buttoning his coat before reaching his hands into the stomach of the deceased - he looked it over for a second - woman, rubbing the entrails along the fabric.

“It’ll be camouflage,” he explained, “Maybe they won’t be able to tell. Watch.” Everyone began speaking, overlapping arguments in protest of his plan. He finished his work by covering the majority of his clothes, going out of the room. The others kept talking.

“Cas, get back in here!”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Castiel! Castiel, don’t do this!” Castiel, self-assured, held out his arms and smiled. A walker came by and their shouts grew louder.

“Cas- this is dangerous!” Dean said, “We can’t lose you!” Castiel quirked an eyebrow up at that.

“I’ll be fine.” He held a finger to his lips and everyone quieted. The walker didn’t take a second glance at him as it passed by, stopping by the door. It shut quietly with a click and Cas stepped forward, shoving the blade so far through the zombie’s skull that the tip nicked the door, leaving a splinter. He pulled it back out with a squelching sound, opening the door and going inside. He chuckled and pulled out his cigarette. “See?” Everybody exchanged a glance before nodding.

“Let’s do it,” Gabe said, “C’mon, step right on up to get covered in guts.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean grit his teeth. God didn’t exist. Not now, not ever.

The group struggled not to throw up their lunch as they went slowly and carefully down the hallways. “I’ll go for the door,” Cas whispered to them as they made their way around at a snail’s pace. “I’ll go and try to lock it.” Dean nodded.

“We’re coming with you.” Anna froze, looking to Dean with wide eyes.

“Really?” she asked, a bit afraid. “Maybe we should go get the others first?” It was obvious to Dean that she was trying to worm her way out of going right into danger. Either she didn’t want to or she didn’t want Dean hurt, he couldn’t tell the difference. All he knew was that she didn’t want to go and she’d do anything to get out of it. Cas pondered that for a second.

“No,” he said finally, voice firm and absolute, “we’re going for the door.” He looked from one person to the other, sight landing on Anna. “All of us. We’re better going now than risking everyone at once.” Anna looked up to Dean, batting her eyes. It was clear to him that she didn’t want to go, and was silently begging for backup. Dean glanced to Cas for a second before shaking his head.

“Cas is right. That’s the best thing to do right now.” Anna huffed out a breath and crossed her arms, Dean chuckling quietly. Cas rose an eyebrow, puffing out smoke.

“There goes all my good coats,” he commented under his breath, wisps of smoke rising from his lips. Hannah pat his arm reassuringly.

“I’ll make you more,” Hannah said with a smile. Dean rolled his eyes. He had to ask himself how oblivious Cas was to her advances. Cas chuckled.

“Sure, thanks. C’mon.” They inched their way through the walker horde, someone muttering something. Dean glanced over his shoulder to see none other than Hannah with her eyes closed, lips barely moving yet making sound as she clutched a small crucifix that hung around her neck.

“Father of us all, please protect us in our time of need-”

“Shut up, Hannah,” Gabriel ordered at a whisper. Dean grit his teeth. God didn’t exist. Not now, not ever. He shot her a glare and she made a small squeaking sound, staring at the floor, crucifix falling to sit on her chest.

Soon they saw a light flooding in from one end of the hallway, now back at their previously-failed attempt location. The walkers only hobbled past them as they stood in the hallway, guns in hand. Dean saw, past a break in the walking dead, light flooding into the area from a door up a staircase.

“I’ll go,” Cas volunteered, taking a drag of his cigarette. Everyone gave a short nod in agreement - except for Hannah. Cas looked to her and he sighed, giving in, but not before she pulled him in for a hug. Cas’ eyes went wide from confusion before squeezing her gently, pulling back and checking his gun. Anna clung slightly to Dean and he pulled her close.

“We’ll cover you,” Ellen assured. Cas slowly made his way up, Dean hoping they were home clear. For once, after all his hard work, they deserved it. On his way, Cas dropped his cigarette, it landing by a zombie’s feet. It looked down and then over to them for a moment.

That was when Anna began screaming.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gunfire pierced the air and made hearing nearly impossible as walkers dropped one by one, only to be replaced by thirty. Hope was nearly lost.

All Hell was about to break loose, and if Castiel didn’t act within the next few milliseconds, his family and friends would be dead with the rest of them as good as that. He had to do something. Setting his jaw, he took out his guns and double-wielded as he shot the zombies around him, killing as they swarmed. “Run, dammit, run!” He ducked under a zombie and it fell over him, picking up his foot and slamming it into the walker’s skull. The others took out the guns, Anna and Hannah both crying. Once Castiel had cleared enough zombies away, he saw why.

With a large gash in his side and neck, color drained from his skin, Samandriel stalked toward them. Undead.

“Run!” Castiel repeated. The others began shooting as they started running, Castiel fighting through the horde until he was nearly out of bullets, catching up. Hannah began lagging behind, Castiel grabbing her hand and pulling her along. Dean was doing the same with Anna, yet slightly more successful. Castiel shot back at the chasing group when he could, muttering a quiet ‘I’m so sorry’ before firing, the bullet entering Samandriel’s head and the once-Angel falling to the ground. Gunfire pierced the air and made hearing nearly impossible as walkers dropped one by one, only to be replaced by thirty. Hope was nearly lost.

Gabriel shot at one, hitting it in the chest. On its way down it grabbed onto Anna and sank its teeth into her shoulder. Anna screamed, the zombie ripping a chunk from her flesh, blood gushing everywhere, Dean’s eyes going wide. “Anna!”

“Dean!” Dean shot the walker dead but Castiel knew it wouldn’t be enough. He grit his teeth and held up his gun. He knew Dean would hate him, but he had to.

“Dean, move back!” Without hesitation he pulled the trigger, Anna’s eyes permanently open as the metal pierced her skull and lodged itself in her brain. Her mouth hung open as her grip on Dean’s hand loosened, her body falling back and to the awaiting walkers. They descended upon his dead cousin and Dean was nearly frozen, Castiel forced to drag Dean back to the main room.

They all burst inside, panting, Ellen and Jo using chairs to block the entrance. The mission had failed. They were doomed.

All the others were already gathered, holding bags. Everyone held some type of gun, ready to flee. “Guys, we have to leave. The bunker is compromised. We-”

“You son of a bitch!” Castiel turned around in time to have Dean’s fist collide with his jaw, making Castiel stagger back. Dean lunged at him, sending them both onto the floor. “You killed her! You killed Anna!” He punched Castiel repeatedly in the face, splitting his lip and bruising his cheek. “You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you!” Someone finally had the sense to try to pull Dean away, the man struggling against Michael and Lucifer’s hold. “I’m gonna kill you!”

Hannah helped Castiel stand, Sam trying to calm Dean down and the Angels already searching for the medical supplies in one of the duffels. Only one didn’t. “You killed cousin Anna?” Claire asked, her grip tight on her gun.

“I had to,” Castiel breathed, “she got bitten. We couldn’t’ve amputated her head, for Christ’s sake. I only had one choice.”

“You didn’t have to kill her!” Dean shouted, wrestling Michael and Lucifer’s arms. “We could’ve saved her!”

“She’s just another casualty!” Castiel spat. Dean’s expression went ice-cold, eyes burning.

“I loved her!”

“You loved the _sex_ ,” Castiel hissed. “Glad you could bang someone you didn’t consider your best friend.”

“I’m gonna kill you if it’s the last thing I do!” Chuck came up with a needle filled with a clear liquid, glancing to Castiel. Castiel gave a short nod as Dean kept shouting obscenities and curses to him, Chuck handing the needle to Michael. “What the Hell? You son of a...!” The needle pierced Dean’s throat and Michael pressed down the plunger, Dean’s struggles slowly ceasing until they stopped, the Hunter unconscious. Castiel pulled away from Hannah and wiped sweat off his brow, licking at the cut on his bottom lip.

“We have to leave,” he stated, “Those of us who’re stronger should hold bags and have guns. The rest of you cover.” He barely paid attention to Dean as they all fought their way out, Castiel’s mind blank and with no thoughts as he shot walkers and climbed into his gold Lincoln, Hannah beside him. Everyone loaded up their gear as fast as they could and started their vehicles, Castiel reaching into his pocket and coming up with a cigarette. He lit it and took a drag, not bothering to look back at his home, now swarmed with walkers, lost memories and sacrificed family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret to inform you all that I'm going on a hellatus for a while. I've been running out of prepared chapters on this and I need a week or three to write some. I'll set up a date and shoot for then, but, in the meantime, please enjoy this 'cliffhanger'.


End file.
